


What Happens in AC

by TrinityEverett



Series: What Happens in AC [1]
Category: Castle
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 14:53:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 43,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4709990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrinityEverett/pseuds/TrinityEverett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Castle, Castle wake up." Their joined hands wiggle against her belly in her efforts to rouse him. "Castle, we got married last night," she hisses. - A Season 4 AU beginning mid-4x08 (Heartbreak Hotel). Based on a tumblr prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Title** : What Happens In AC

**Pairing** : Caskett

**Prompt** : via castlefanficprompts on tumblr:  **Anonymous said: (pre-Always) Castle and Beckett travel to sin city and wake up married**

**Notes** _:_ It's not Sin City, but it's close.

Takes place during 4x08 - Heartbreak Hotel. Totally AU.

* * *

The sunlight is her first clue that something is amiss. Her room is never this bright. Not since she installed the new blinds and decided to add light-blocking curtains as an extra measure of privacy.

Why is her room so bright? Did she forget to close everything up tightly last night? The last time she had, the nightmares came. She's pretty sure she didn't have nightmares last night. No, she actually slept well last night.

Her feet slide under the sheets experimentally, seeking out the weight of the blanket she keeps at the end of the bed. Had she kicked it off in the middle of the night? She wouldn't mind it now. It's a little chilly in here.

She doesn't find the blanket. The foot she encounters instead is a surprise.

The fact that it's connected to a soft, warm leg is less of a shock, since it'd be a lot weirder to have  _just_  a foot in her bed. (Well not  _her_  bed, this isn't her bed, she just knows it, but she isn't brave enough yet to look around and see whose bed it could be.) But it doesn't make her feel any better.

She's in bed with someone.

No. No, no. She hasn't had a one night stand in years. Kate Beckett does not do one night stands anymore. Not since the worst of the months after her mother's death, when her entire damn life was turned around and upside down. Kate Beckett is … shit, she's trying to get herself together in hopes that maybe  _they_ can be something once the dust settles with her.

It takes monumental effort, but she tells herself to breathe. Just breathe. Maybe it's not… what it seems.

Experimentally, her foot move higher, leg contorting just a little with the effort, only to stop when it encounters worn cotton instead of warm skin and the gentle dusting of hair. Boxers. He's… okay good, that's promising. She peeks an eye open to survey her own clothing situation, releasing a shaky breath when she sees that she, too, is clothed. Mostly. She's in her camisole and panties, but… it's something.

There's an arm around her waist, a large one. Tanned against the white of the sheets. Hotel sheets?

Atlantic City. She's in Atlantic City. She drove down to help the boys, and when she arrived, they were wearing those ridiculous Elvis costumes. Castle's idea.

Castle.

Oh she knows this arm. She knows this thumb. Those fingers brush against hers every day when he offers her coffee like a kiss.

Okay, what the  _hell_?

A  _ring_?

Her hand scrapes over her face. She's in Atlantic City, in bed with Castle and he's wearing a ring. On his left hand. On his ring finger.

And if the cold against her nose is to be believed, so is she.

Oh shit.

They weren't drunk, she knows that. She doesn't feel hungover at all, for one. She remembers the four of them sharing a single pitcher of beer while they discussed their next move in the case. She'd been about to make herself scarce so the three of them could continue their IBPWOC – try saying that ten times fast – when Castle sent the boys ahead, staying with her instead.

They'd talked, she remembers, seriously talked. She's not even sure what prompted it, the first moment of sharing, but he'd scooted closer in the cushy booth, resting his chin on his hand and keeping his eyes on her. It's possible he never took his eyes off her.

And then somewhere along the way she'd asked about his marriages, about the feeling of impending doom she'd heard him talk about the other day. By then their fingers were brushing against each other, doing a painfully shy dance of hopefulness and longing.

Her hand drops from her face, landing against his with a quiet slap. His thumb twitches under her hand, coming up to curl around hers and draw it closer. The rest of their fingers slot together, rings clinking softly. It's… surprisingly not as terrifying as she'd expected it to be.

Finally feeling daring, she looks around with a practiced eye. This is his room, she's sure. Not as large or luxurious as she would've expected, but even Richard Castle can't get everything on short notice. His bag's on the luggage stand in the corner, and tucked neatly beside it is the overnight bag she keeps in her trunk for emergencies.

They're alone in the room, so that's good. Ryan and Esposito are nowhere to be found. In theory that means nobody's playing a prank on her…

"Mmm, Kate, go back to sleep."

Well at least  _he_  knows he's with her. Or he's with her in whatever his slumber is telling him is real.

_"_ _Would you ever get married again?"_

Oh, that had been her question, hadn't it? Posed between sips of water and nibbling from a basket of fries he'd ordered after finding out she hadn't eaten since her early lunch. He'd flushed and demurred at first, tripping over his words to explain he wouldn't  _mind_ , under the right circumstances, with the… right person.

He'd looked straight at her then. Still shy, but purposeful, and somehow she hadn't frozen in fear. Hadn't let terror take over her brain and send her running. She'd just smiled, sliding her hand under his.

It'd been her idea.

Shit, they'd gotten  _married_. Because  _she'd_  suggested it. She'd proposed to him in the middle of an Atlantic City casino restaurant, completely sober, completely serious.

"Castle, Castle wake up." Their joined hands wiggle against her belly in her efforts to rouse him. "Castle, we got  _married_  last night," she hisses.

"Mhmm," he mumbles, burying his nose deeper into her hair. "Paperwork's being filed today. Too late las' night."

Right. The paperwork. The forms they'd signed and promised to file as soon as possible to make what was a surprisingly tasteful ceremony official. He'd sent it to his lawyer before escorting her back here. To  _their_  room.

Oh God, they're married.

It's on the tip of her tongue to ask if it's too late to take it back, but his chest brushes her back when he inhales and her tension somehow eases. The solid wall of him behind her scatters the thousands of questions and objections she has. Instead of "I changed my mind," out comes something else entirely,

"What are we going to tell people?"

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Previously** :  _Oh God, they're married._

_It's on the tip of her tongue to ask if it's too late to take it back, but his chest brushes her back when he inhales and her tension somehow eases. The solid wall of him behind her scatters the thousands of questions and objections she has. Instead of "I changed my mind," out comes something else entirely,_

_"_ _What are we going to tell people?"_

* * *

"Wha?"

He's obviously not quite awake. Although to be fair the late night and lack of coffee has made her slower than normal, too.

"Castle, what are we going to tell people?" She squirms onto her back, breaking most of the contact between their bodies. Maybe if they're not spooning she'll be able to think and he'll be able to focus on her words instead of snuggling. Instead, he squirms into her side, pressing against her from shoulder to toes.

So, sleepy Richard Castle is a complete love sponge. It's a good thing to know since they're married now, and they'll be sleeping beside each other for the rest of their lives. She's hopeful that that'll be a reasonably long time, unless their families kill them for this. Well, her. It was her idea. They might kill her, actually. Her father. Or Alexis. Maybe they'll even team up for it.

"Castle, we got  _married_."

His lips find her bare shoulder, puckering in a half kiss as he processes her words.

"We got married, Kate," he confirms, his voice rough with sleep. His thumb slides over hers soothingly. " _You_  asked me to marry you."

Her breath hitches at the reminder. Okay, so they both remember it the same way. That's good, right? No miscommunications there.

"I know I did." Her lip finds its way between her teeth. She has no idea where she's going with this. "And I'm not… I'm just saying we have to  _tell_  people we got married on a random Monday when we hadn't even been  _dating_. We're going to have to tell my father that, we're going to have to tell Alexis that! And Gates, the boys."

"Hey, hey, it's not like we're strangers, Kate. We've known each other for years and we're both adults."

She snorts involuntarily. "Well, one of us is an adult."

" _Funny_ , Mrs. Castle."

Oh God, that's her now, isn't it? Her hand tightens around Castle's, the action pressing her ring tighter against her finger. She takes a deep breath.

"I'm hilarious, I know. Be serious, please. Just for a few minutes."

"I am serious, Beckett." He props up, resting his cheek on his fist, eyes locking with hers. "We're grown ups and we made a grown up choice. Was it impulsive?"

"Completely. And crazy. And not what I intended to do when I drove down here."

The corners of his lips twitch at her interruption. "I know. Me, too. But does that mean it's bad?"

"I didn't say it was bad, Castle. I'm just –"

"Freaking out?"

She huffs, ignoring his triumphant grin. Yes, he knows her this well.

"Fine, yes, freaking out. I don't do things like this, Castle!"

"I know, Kate," he murmurs, his eyes impossibly tender. "And if you… I can call Henry right now and tell him to forget filing. As far as I'm aware nothing will be official then. If you want."

Common sense tells her she should have him make the call and get his lawyer to toss the papers, making the evening just a quirky story to tell the boys when they meet up again. Doing that will make everything so much easier. They can go back to their reasonably separate lives, she can go back to working on the wall, and if this doesn't ruin everything between them, maybe they can have another shot in the future.

But there are his eyes. Bright and blue, watching her weigh their options and battle her instinctual desire to hide. He's hopeful. He won't come right out and say it, but she knows which answer he's hoping for. He's hoping for one that says she loves him as much as he loves her, as much as he loved her that day in the cemetery, the day she hasn't been able to admit to remembering. He's hoping for the answer she gave him last night; that she's with him.

Her heart jumps. She  _is_  with him. And if she's not all the way, she  _wants_  to be. Whatever impulse it was that made her propose last night is one she's going to hold onto. Partners, right?

Tugging his hand up, she studies their wedding bands. They're not the most elaborate rings she's ever seen, but they're definitely no slouch, either. They're both beautiful, exactly what she likes; tasteful, but not boring. Big enough to make a statement, but not gaudy. He didn't buy these for shits and grins, he bought these for good.

She is  _married_  to Richard Castle. Ho- _ly_  shit.

Surging up, her mouth covers his. Her tongue slips past his lips, swallowing his intake of breath. It's different from their previous kisses; there's no ruse to maintain, no audience to be mindful of, no darkness to hide behind. It is broad daylight in their room, the morning after their wedding. She's kissing her husband. She's touching her husband.

"No, don't do that. Don't call him," she pants against his lips, fingers curling over his pounding heart.

Her nose bumps his. "Don't call him, use your time with your wife more effectively," she orders shortly. "Because I don't know what the hell you boys are doing on you I-B-P-Whatever, but  _I_  have to go back to work soon."

Castle laughs, his hand disconnecting from hers to trail up her arm, cupping her shoulder. The move's careful, tinged with want, and she shivers as his index finger swipes under her camisole strap. She echoes the gesture, forging an easy path up his arm and down his bare chest, stopping only when she's able to brush her knuckle just underneath his boxer shorts. He shudders, dipping his head to meet her lips again.

Any tease that might've been on the tip of her tongue is lost in a shared rumble of approval. Last night was nice; slow and easy, two people finding each other in the dark for the first time. The complete opposite of what she'd always imagined their first time would be. They relied on touch, on gentle whispers, but they hadn't seen each other. It'd been their wedding night and she'd kept him in the dark, even dressing afterward, too scared to let him see exactly what he'd married.

The woman with a bullet wound in her chest, and an at-times achy surgical scar on her side.

As terrifying as it is, she wants him to see. Here in the daylight, she wants him to see it all. And she wants to see him, too.

"Castle," she breathes, arching into his exploring hands. "Castle, take it off."

His hand stills. "Off?"

It sounds innocent enough, his question, but she knows he's trying to torment her. He has to be with the slow, gentle circles his thumb makes through the fabric, and the way his mouth slides along her throat. Tasting, nipping. Leaving indelible, invisible marks on her.

Her own hands slide under his boxers, her nails caressing his hipbone. That gets him. It's not the first place she's learned gets him, but it's the first one today, so she's off to a good start.

"Off," she commands, doing the charitable thing and helping lower his sleepwear. The boxers are then tossed in the direction of the chair that's housing the rest of their clothes from last night. Before she has a chance to see exactly where they've landed, he's sending her camisole and panties in the same general vicinity.

"Good aim," she praises anyway, grinning against his neck. He likes when she kisses his neck.

He likes when she touches him, she's already learned that about him. He likes when her hands slide over his shoulders and down his back. When her hands cup his ass and pull him closer. She thinks he especially likes when her fingers curl around him, stroking gently, and her thumb slides over just the right spot.

The pink dart of his tongue against his lips distracts her, but he doesn't give her more than a brief taste of his mouth before he's moving again. Coffee or no coffee, Richard Castle is on a mission now.

Her hips lift involuntarily, demanding the press of his fingers, the swipe of his tongue. Other than a quick, gentle slide of his hand over her hip, he doesn't heed her silent request. Instead, his head continues its slow, careful journey downward, over her collarbones and across her chest.

As good as it feels, her breath still hitches. He's so close to her scar. She should warn him; it's not the most attractive thing in the world, neither of them are.

"Kate," he breathes, lifting his eyes to hers. Can he sense it? Or did she say something?

"It's just… it's not the nicest thing to look at. It'll get better, it's getting better, it just takes time."

His mouth covers the mark between her breasts, stopping her short. He's gentle, so gentle with it, and she's not sure if it's for fear of hurting her or scaring her off. The scar on her side gets the same treatment. Careful, quiet love, a vow whispered into still-repairing skin.

"We have time," he promises quietly, his voice thick. "We have plenty of time."

There's a buzz from the nightstand before she has the chance to respond to that (how does she respond to that, really?). Shit. No, no.

"Kate –"

They reach for her phone as one, silencing the annoying vibrations before she glances at the notification. Three new emails and two texts. Not terrible. Nothing from Ryan or Esposito yet, either.

Her fingers sift through his hair before palming the back of his head gently. "It'll hold, it'll hold. It's my warrant for Sam's ex-wife. I can't pick it up until I'm back in the city and she's not going anywhere."

"Are you sure?"

Craning her neck, she kisses his brow. "I'm sure, Castle. Now," she hums, rubbing her foot along his side casually. "Do I have to come down there, or are you going to come up here?"

His head dips, but not before she sees his decidedly naughty grin. "Don't worry, Kate, you're going to come either way."

She does. A couple times, in fact.

—

They're more than fifteen minutes late to their rendezvous with Ryan and Espo because  _someone_  couldn't keep their hands to themselves in the shower (okay, maybe it was her), but the boys seem to care more about their steaming coffee mugs than their tardiness. If they're concerned about Castle standing them up last night they don't mention it in front of her. If they're concerned about the two of them walking in together, they don't mention it. In fact, they don't say much of anything.

"Morning, boys, rough night?" She smirks, looping her pinky with Castle's for a short squeeze. Her hand retreats a moment later, no that her friends are in any shape to notice.

Ryan groans, pulling his coffee mug closer to his face. "Bottle service."

Esposito nods shortly. "Never doin' that again." He seems to be better off than Ryan, at least at first glance. "And where the hell were you, bro? We waited for you for over an hour."

She turns to her partner. "You bailed on them, Castle? Tsk tsk, that's a shame. You were so excited to play with the boys." Her tongue pokes out from between her teeth. "What'd you do instead?"

It's a little evil, she's a little evil, but she can't say she doesn't love seeing him squirm. And squirm he does, at least at first.

"Yeah, I'm sorry… about that, guys. I got an idea for the book, lost track of time… but hey! Beckett's covering for us today and I'm having a car deliver us home later tonight." His hands clasp together, like the prospect is entirely too joyful to contain, but he'll try anyway. "I'll make it up to you. How's that sound?"

The boys are silent, sizing him up, and she takes the opportunity to step back for some coffee. She's mid-pour when they finally agree, stating only their desire for no more Elvis costumes and to maybe go easy on the drinks. Oh good, they've made up already. And their second request means maybe the car Castle booked while she was shimmying into her jeans won't deliver a completely inebriated husband to her later on.

Her stutter step at the thought is decidedly ungraceful, but she does her best to recover without drawing too much attention to herself. Coffee sloshes over the side of the mug anyway.

"Damn," she hisses.

Castle's at her hip in an instant, reaching out to take one of the coffees from her. "Are you okay?" His thumb swipes the rapidly cooling coffee from her skin, pursing his lips to blow on it.

It's not a bad burn at all, but she'd never be able to guess from his reaction. Her head dips to hide the pinkness she can feel spreading in her cheeks. She tripped because she was mentally calling him her husband again.

"Yeah, Castle, I'm okay. Tripped on the rug. Brought you some coffee."

It really is a ridiculous thing to say. Obviously she brought him coffee, otherwise there wouldn't have been two mugs in her hand. But he just smiles sweetly, acknowledging her efforts.

"So I see. Thanks, Beckett," he adds, crinkling his nose in that adorable way as he takes his first sip. "Mhmm, good co-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. What the hell are those?"

"Yeah, what the hell are those?" Ryan echoes, jumping to his feet. Well, he seems better now. "Are those, are those wedding rings? Javi, are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

"I'm seeing it, bro." Javi looks between them cautiously, like he's not sure she's going to let him get away with even asking. She lifts an eyebrow in challenge. Man up, Espo.

"And I just have one question: did you ditch us to get  _married_? To  _each other_?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Where we left off:**

_"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. What the hell are those?"_

_"Yeah, what the hell are those?" Ryan echoes, seeming a bit more steady on his feet. "Are those, are those wedding rings? Javi, are you seeing what I'm seeing?"_

_"I'm seeing it, bro." Javi looks between them cautiously, like he's not sure she's going to let him get away with even asking. She lifts an eyebrow in challenge. Man up, Espo._

_"And I just have one question: did you ditch us to get married? To each other?"_

* * *

Something tells her she and Castle are going to have to get used to being met with incredulity over the next few days. The boys are the first, but they won't be the last ones to look at the two of them like they've lost their minds and gone to Mars (although in Castle's case that isn't too far out of his realm of potential destinations). As it is, they're certainly doing a good job gawking right now.

"You're serious. You're not messing with us? No screwing with the possibly still partially drunk guys? You really got married?" Ryan's questions come at warp speed, but somehow she and Castle manage to keep up. Mostly, anyway.

"No screwing with the definitely still partially drunk guys," she confirms. "Although now I'm disappointed we didn't think of it."

Castle snickers beside her, his shoulders losing some of their tension now that she has readily owned their decision. It abates even more when she nudges him playfully.

"We got married last night," Castle's the one to say it this time, and it could just be her imagination, but he sounds more than a little awestruck.

" _To_  each other," she adds, just in case it needs clarification. The boys are still staring at them suspiciously. "Guys, it's really not a joke. Castle and I got married last night… around 9:45?"

Her husband nods agreeably. "Sounds right. Maybe closer to 10:30 or 11, once it was finally our turn."

"Right." She turns back to the guys. "So that's where we are. And we better eat now if we're going to eat." She sips her coffee, lifting her eyebrows in suggestion. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm starving."

It's the perfect set up for an obnoxious comment, but the guys are apparently still too stunned to realize what a softball she's just lobbed them. Castle bites back his own snicker, so she knows someone caught it.

"So let me get this straight," Ryan starts once they're seated with heaping plates from the buffet.

She arches an eyebrow when he doesn't continue. "Let you get what straight?"

The table isn't that large, so Castle's knee brushes hers every time he shifts. It's cozy enough, though, so she doesn't complain. Instead, her hand settles on his thigh, stilling him. If his contented noise is anything to go by, he doesn't mind in the least.

"I'm just trying to figure out how Castle managed to get Gates to send him along with us, propose a bachelor party for  _me_  while we're here, and still go off and get married to  _you_  in the middle of my mid-case-bachelor party."

Well when he puts it like that…

She laughs into her hand, glancing sideways at her partner for his reaction. He takes a bite of waffle, washing it down with a hearty sip of orange juice. She likes the way his throat works when he swallows.

"You make it sound like I set all this up."

"Well did you?" Espo asks.

Castle sputters a little bit. "I - I, no!"

Good wife that she is, she thumbs the inseam on his jeans, simultaneously attempting to soothe him and giving him more to stammer about. "Relax, guys. He's not the mastermind this time. It was my idea."

The boys look at each other. "I think I might still be drunk."

She rolls her eyes. "Eat your food and be quiet."

Castle snickers beside her, dropping his hand to rub her knee. The touch would be innocent if it were anyone else, or if his fingers weren't curling to reach the sensitive spot on the underside of her leg. The spot he'd found during his thorough, careful round two (though he'll insist it was round three, counting the night before) exploration.

Her eyes narrow at him. Cute. Of course, now she has to retaliate. Hopefully the crunch of her bacon will be able to hide the scrape of her fingers on his jeans. She schools her face, teasing her nails just a  _little_  higher than before.

And she almost gets away with it, too, until her  _husband_  gives up the game by kneeing the table in his surprise.

"Whoa, whoa, hands where we can see 'em. Both of you."

"Yeah, none of that at the table, gross."

_Fine_. She wiggles her fingers over the side of table, settling her hand in plain view. "Do you want to see my feet, too? So you know we're not playing footsie."

"That won't be necessary, Detective, but thank you for your cooperation." Ryan enunciates carefully, his tone all business.

"Sure. Happy to help," she snorts, going back to her food.

Not really. Her knee feels cold without the heat of Castle's hand. She would've been perfectly happy staying like that. Too bad.

Castle's fingers flex beside hers, restless from their interrupted mission. She nudges her coffee mug against his knuckles before she can let herself do the girly thing and slide her hand into his. She's never been a hand holding girl; it's uncomfortable, sweaty, and it makes movement a pain, but she wants to hold Castle's hand over breakfast. That's what normal people do, right?

Of course normal people aren't about to drive two hours, pick up an arrest warrant, and bring someone in on murder charges when their marriage is less than twenty four hours old. Especially not while their husband stays behind to play. No, she and Castle don't do normal very well.

Actually, normal would be weird.

"I take it that's a hint, Beckett?"

"Mhmm, might be. One more for the road? I have to head out soon. Gotta do some work while you boys play," she teases, watching him rise to his feet.

"Don't make that face, Castle," she calls after him, knowing she saw a glimpse of disappointment before he got up. "Bachelor parties are no fun with the old ball and chain around. Besides, one of us has to go back to New York and face the music."

Javi whistles. "Oh yeah you do. What're you gonna tell Gates?"

She winces. "I have no idea."

"Worse," Ryan pipes up after a sip of water. "What're you gonna tell your families?"

Okay, so maybe she needs a better plan than avoiding thinking about her plan.

"I don't… we're going to have to talk about that." She twists in her seat, searching for Castle. He's somehow taking her simple hotel coffee and turning it into a masterpiece, she can just tell.

They have so much to talk about. Telling people isn't the only thing they have to do; they have to talk about living arrangements, probably finances, too. Plus there are whatever other issues that come with being a cop's husband and a millionaire's wife.

Jeez, she's a millionaire's wife now.

Wait, does that mean she gets the Ferrari whenever she wants?

"Yeah, we're going to have to… talk about all that," she trails off as Castle returns, offering her a mug and a smile.

"Talk about what?" He settles in his chair, this time a bit closer than before.

She smiles quickly, ignoring Ryan and Esposito's rules about hands under the table. Castle's fingers slide over hers immediately. Apparently, he feels the same way she does about holding hands right now. "I'll tell you in a bit."

"Kay."

Breakfast goes by quickly. The boys decide to share some of the tamer events from their night and she gives Castle the go ahead to tell a more elaborate version of their wedding story. It's mostly correct, embellished here and there for dramatic effect, but she doesn't call him on it. The other couples they encountered  _had_  been characters.

Her mug is nearly empty when her phone buzzes from her pocket. She's been getting emails all morning, mostly daily blasts from online stores, but this time it's Gates, requesting an update ASAP. Damn. It's time for her to get on the road.

"Walk me out?" She looks sideways at Castle. He's been waving away her offer to contribute a few dollars toward breakfast since she got to her feet. Rolling her eyes, she tosses the bills toward Espo instead. "Don't put them in a stripper's G-string, that's all I ask."

"You got it, boss."

Castle's already hefted her overnight bag onto his shoulder by the time she's done wishing Ryan luck. She doesn't bother fighting him for it; it's bulky and after their, ahem, excursions all morning, her side is feeling somewhat tender. It doesn't hurt, it's just stretched and tender. Those muscles – all of  _those_  muscles – haven't been used in a while.

"What's on your mind, Kate?"

"Everything?" She exhales softly, looping her arm through his. "While we were eating I just started thinking about all the things we haven't talked about, and it's a  _lot_ , Castle. Legal things, living arrangements,  _money_ ," she stresses the last part pointedly, ignoring his chuckle. "I don't know what to tell the NYPD that won't have someone raising an eyebrow. If we don't do something, though, and I get… hurt again, I don't want them to deny you anything. And who the hell do I call and ask about that anyway? My union rep? My dad? Gates? Some paper pusher in HR?"

She clears her throat before forging ahead, "And what if Alexis hates this? We're going to tell her that, without dating, without anything, we just got married and now I'm moving in, and she's just going to have to deal? That's not fair to her. That's not fair to your mom. What if they both think this is a huge mistake?"

"Need I remind you my mother only lives with me because her last ex-husband was someone she'd known for a year at best and he took off with all her money? So unless you're a very patient, very cunning gold digger, Beckett, I think you're trustworthy about that."

"That's not… I mean it's part of what I mean, but that's not all of it."

"You're worried Alexis is going to freak out about us, I know."

Her eyes lift to meet his. He's serious, good.

"But listen, Kate," he commands softly, curling his hand around her fingers. "You, Alexis, and my mother are the three most important people in my life. And you have been long before last night. Alexis knows that."

Her breath hitches. How long has she been in that tier of importance? Months? _Years?_

"She knows that, Kate," he continues, keeping his head low so the words remain theirs and theirs alone. "I know it'll be weird – really weird – and a huge adjustment, but I just know it'll be so good in the end. For all of us. You, me, Alexis, your dad, and my mom. Family, Kate."

Family. Just the sound of that makes her heart stutter. She doesn't get just him in this marriage, she gets his mother, his daughter, his family. And her dad gets them, too. They haven't had that in so long.

"Family," she echoes, pressing her hand tighter into his.

"Yeah, family. And yeah, Alexis is probably going to look at us like we're idiot kids on a shared acid trip, but she'll know it's not just a stupid, impulsive mistake soon enough."

She nods, letting his convictions wash over her. Castle's lips touch her forehead quickly.

"As for the NYPD, why don't you call Henry on your way home and ask what he thinks. He may know if there's a way to disclose some information, but not all, or change things medically without putting it on record at work. And then we can save the big announcement for when Gates likes me."

Right, Henry. His lawyer. She can ask him.

"Okay, yeah, let me have his number, I'll call on the way," she exhales, feeling her tension ease even more. "Thanks."

He looks so proud, knowing he's been able to help her. If this is what marriage is, making each other feel better about problems, it doesn't sound so bad at all.

She kisses the corner of his mouth when they reach her cruiser. "So um, how… do you want to do this later? When you get back into the city."

"Come to the loft? Bring a bag for a few days? I'll clear space for you and we can talk about … everything else?"

"Are you sure? I mean, do you want some time with Alexis, just the two of you?"

Castle dumps her bag in the trunk a tad unceremoniously before turning back to her. "I'm nervous, too, Kate. But I think it'd be better if we just tell them, don't you? Or we can tell Alexis first and then your dad and my mother."

Is it wrong to want to cower from a 17-year-old girl? Probably. It doesn't stop her from considering avoidance a viable option anyway.

Giving in, she rubs her hand over her face. "Okay, I'll call my dad and see if he's free. Then we can just do it all in one fell swoop."

He grins, palming her cheeks. "Perfect. And I will make any trauma we experience up to you in so many ways."

"You'd better. Especially if your daughter yells at me. I'm supposed to be the responsible one here."

She leans into him, lifting into his kiss. He tastes like coffee and syrup from his Belgian waffle. This part they're already good at. Sharing space, sharing breath. She can only hope the other parts will fit together, too.

"She won't yell at you. Me, on the other hand, she might yell at."

"Ouch."

Castle kisses her again, swiping his thumbs over her ears. "Tell me about it, she can be brutal."

"That's not instilling confidence, you know." She nips at his mouth.

"Sorry. Sorry."

They press closer only to jump apart. Now it's Castle's phone buzzing against her hip.

"Oh come on," he mutters, digging it out of his pocket. Her fingers splay against his side to keep him from falling against the trunk of the cruiser. "Seriously?"

He shows her the message, glaring over her shoulder, no doubt at the offenders. It's from Esposito, but she has no doubt they both had a hand in it, and it's just one word.

_Gross._

She'll show them gross. Her arms wind around him deliberately, pulling him against her. "And on that note, I'm going now. Continue your boys club meeting."

Castle's eyes light up. Now he's catching on.

"Kay," he agrees.

She grins. "Kay."

Their mouths collide again, as obviously and obnoxiously as they can muster without being asked to leave by parking lot security. Even with all the noise in the lot, she can hear the boys gag behind them. Good. Serves them right.

Castle looks a little bit dazed when she pulls away. It reminds her of that night in the alley, except this time his mouth is fair game for longer than just those few minutes.

She kisses his neck quickly. "See you at home, Castle. And send me Henry's number."

A dumb nod and a half wave is his only response. The boys still look thoroughly disgusted when she slides behind the wheel of the car.

Her work here is done.


	4. Chapter 4

**Where we left off:**

_She kisses his neck quickly. "See you at home, Castle. And send me Henry's number."_

_A dumb nod and a half wave is his only response. The boys still look thoroughly disgusted when she slides behind the wheel of the car._

_Her work here is done._

* * *

She almost forgets to take off her ring.

It distracted her the entire drive home, to the point where she had to sit on her hand after staring at it for a few moments too long and raising the ire of the traffic behind her. She'd told herself she'd take it off and stash it in her locker at the precinct.

It isn't until she sees Gates and finds herself studying the rings on the other woman's finger that she realizes her hand is still heavy with the unfamiliar weight of her own wedding band. So much for storing it. She's just managed to tug it off her finger and shove it into her pocket when her boss gestures her over to discuss her game plan for wrapping up this case.

Her fingers wiggle a little wildly as she grabs the warrant from her desk to indicate she's about to take LT and pick up Sam's ex-wife. If Gates notices her lack of coordination, she doesn't comment. Instead, she just reminds her to check in once things are done.

Her wedding ring presses into her thigh for the next two hours. Through the arrest and subsequent conversations with Rebecca Siegel and her lawyer, and a rather surreal discussion over her partner's virtues with Gates. She won't tell Castle about the almost-praise Gates gave him; he might get cocky. While it is nice to know the captain's armor isn't impenetrable, she won't be spilling her secret to her boss just yet. Gates isn't  _that_  fond of Castle.

Finally her boss retreats to her office, giving her time to start her post-case report (including Esposito and Ryan's portions). It also gives her the chance to check her email for anything from Henry. When she'd called, Castle's lawyer had been in the process of handling their paperwork and said he'd look into her questions and get back to her via email. So far she hasn't heard back.

She hasn't heard back from her father, either. Maybe her message was a little vague, but he  _usually_  has time to check his voicemail around mid-afternoon and return calls before going back to work. If he doesn't call her back soon, things could be weird. Weirder. Although, it's probably good that he hasn't called her yet; the bullpen isn't the best place to be arranging for him to meet her at Castle's later.

Maybe he'll see the humor in all of this. In the fact that he'd spent over two months with her last summer prodding her to talk about her partner and now, less than six months later, she's married to the man. He has to see the humor in the fact that the most impulsive decision she's ever made has nothing to do with the motorcycle he'd bemoaned, or the tiny tattoo he'd threatened to have her committed over.

Castle likes that tattoo. And she has a feeling he'll enjoy her bike, too.

Oh, she should get him a helmet. As a wedding gift, maybe? Do people still do that? Well, it never hurts to check. If it turns out to be a stupid idea, Christmas is coming soon.

She's grateful Gates can't see her computer as she abandons the report in favor of looking at motorcycle helmets. She remembers seeing one a few months ago that might work for Castle, but she can't do anything until she figures out his hat size. "Big" won't cut it. Maybe she can sneak into his closet tonight and find a hat to guide her. Then she can put the order in before bed or tomorrow morning.

She could ask him now, but that could ruin the surprise if he starts thinking too hard about why she's asking. Not to mention, he's probably not checking his phone anyway. No, she'll try the sneaky route and then if all else fails, she'll ask Martha.

She can get him gear now, though. She knows his clothing size. Is it going overboard? Probably. But the man did just put a ring on her finger that no doubt cost more than most of her closet. She can spend a few hundred dollars on him in return.

Her fingers stray into her pocket to touch said ring. It's not the most secure place to keep it, but as long as she keeps checking on it, that should be okay. She'll have to add it to the chain with her mother's ring tonight and try to start wearing it again, discomfort be damned.

"Detective Beckett."

She jumps, shoving the ring further into her pocket and looking up at the interruption. One of the desk officers from downstairs is standing beside a bouquet with legs? No, it's a delivery kid holding a massive flower arrangement.

"Yes?"

"Delivery for you."

"I, for me? Really?" She reaches for the flowers, hoping not to get a face full of baby's breath. The flowers are gorgeous, not to mention absurd, and she has every idea who arranged for them to be delivered.

"That's what it says on the slip. Sign here?"

Scrawling her name halfheartedly, she plunks the vase on her desk. The kid disappears with his escort, leaving her (and half the bullpen) staring at the floral monstrosity in front of her. There's no doubt that her cheeks are red, and reading the card only makes the blush worse.

_See you tonight._

He  _would_  send that message. And to the precinct, no less. The card joins her wedding ring in her pocket.

"They're flowers, guys," she calls finally, shooing the onlookers away. "I get them, too, you know."

"Who's sucking up to you, Beckett? New boyfriend in the doghouse?"

"Oh yeah. Digging his way out of a huge hole. And now  _I_  am going to get back to work, so I suggest you do the same."

She is going to get back to work. She's going to buy a wedding present, finish this report, and then try to get her dad on the phone again as she heads back to her apartment to pack to go to Castle's. Home. Her future home.

Where they're going to tell their families.

Maybe she can take a little longer on the report.

Her phone finally rings as she's finagling her massive flower arrangement into her apartment. Of course it does. It has to be her dad, because Castle's still en route with their rather worse for the wear friends and he'd told her he was banned from checking in on the wife.

"Hey, Dad. How are you?" She shoves her phone between her shoulder and her ear to free up her hands. Her flowers clink against the counter, the vase wobbling unsteadily. Thankfully, she's able to right it before it does serious damage.

"I'm good, Katie. How are you? How'd your haunted house case go?"

Laughing softly, she slumps against the island. They haven't talked in a while. "Good, we caught the guy. And the place was  _not_  haunted. Much to Castle's dismay."

Her father chuckles, too. "How is Rick?"

"He's good." It's a vague answer, she knows, but she's still trying to get her bearings. "Actually, he's uh, we're having dinner tonight. Castle, me, his daughter and his mother, and if you're free… you're invited, too."

Ugh, that makes it sound serious. Guilty. Like something he should be worried about. She doesn't want him to worry.

"Sure, Katie. That sounds nice. Is… everything okay?"

"Yeah, Dad, everything's okay. We just thought it'd be nice if we did something kind of normal for once?"

Yeah, she's not convincing herself either. This dinner won't be normal at all.

"Well that sounds good. What time should I be there? And where is there?"

"Um," she hums, checking her watch before she tells him. "Dinner's at Castle's. I can give you directions, or you can meet me here and we'll head over together?" It'll be hard to pack a bag like Castle wants if her dad comes over first, but if it's more comfortable for them to arrive together, they can arrive together.

"No, no, I'll meet you there. And I'll stop for something to bring to dinner, too."

"Oh, Dad, you don't have to do that. Castle won't let me bring anything; I know he won't want you to."

"Well too bad."

They laugh together, no doubt remembering how her mother used to insist they were  _never_  to show up to a dinner invitation empty-handed. It was another one of Johanna Beckett's Rules.

"Okay then. I just got home from work, so no hurry. Castle's dropping the guys off after a trip anyway, so I don't want to show up and surprise Alexis before he gets home."

She shouldn't have put it that way, because her dad – ever the lawyer – latches onto that wording. "Oh, Alexis doesn't know we're having dinner?"

"Not… exactly. Castle and I kind of threw the plan together earlier today."

"While he was on a trip."

"Well I was there, too. For part of it. It was a case, mostly, but they turned it into a quick trip for Ryan. But that's why it's so last minute."

Her dad's quiet for a moment, but she knows it's coming. The questioning. "Katherine Beckett, what'd you do?"

"Nothing!" Oh now that's too defensive. "Nothing, Dad. It's just been a long couple of days."

"Uh huh. Define nothing, Katie?"

She winces. "I'd like to plead the fifth?"

"Am I going to be a grandfather?"

Oh God.

"No!" Although technically there  _is_  Alexis, but the girl's seventeen and she isn't even close to being her mother. "No, Dad. I'm not pregnant." There, a loophole.

"But…"

What'd her mother once said?  _"Katie, your father doesn't ever let anything go."_

"But… okay, fine, Castle and I do have something to tell you. All three of you. So just come to dinner, be yourself, and it'll be good. And I'm not saying anything else about it right now."

"Of course, Katie. I'll see you and Rick at dinner then."

She rubs her face. "See you then, Dad."

They're dead. They're so dead.

—

When she arrives at the loft, bulging duffle bag at her feet, Castle greets her with a weird smile. He has obviously showered and changed again since she left him in Atlantic City; his hair's damp and falling against his forehead and he smells clean and fresh. She starts to press her nose into his neck, stopping short when she sees Alexis stalk to the couch over his shoulder.

Distance becomes her friend again and she pushes her hair behind her ear.

"Hey, Castle. How was Atlantic City?" Her voice is a little too loud, words a little too forced. Part of her wonders if she should take her bag back to her car. He might've changed his mind, it might be too much too soon; maybe Alexis knows already that that's why he's –

Oh, he's shutting the door behind him and kissing her now, his large hands splaying against her sides. He keeps her close, tongue darting out to flick her lip. That's more like what she'd been expecting. Her own hands curl around his arms, half to prevent him from moving and half to keep herself from falling over.

"Glad to be home," he rumbles, resting his forehead against hers.

She smiles, eyes slipping shut. "Yeah, it is nice. This isn't low profile, though."

Even with her eyes shut, she knows he's wincing. Uh huh, so he's spilled something already. "I uh, forgot to take my ring off. I've been told I have some serious 'splaining to do."

Thumbing his bicep, she kisses him again gently. "I almost did the same at work. Dad knows we're going to tell him something, but he thought I was pregnant, so…"

Castle laughs softly, seeing the mirth in the situation. "Alexis asked if her new mother was a stripper and if she'll want to do mother-daughter pole dancing lessons."

"So a good start all around." They snicker together, sharing another quick kiss. "Thanks for the flowers, but did you  _have_  to send them to the precinct?"

His thumbs brush her ribs gently. It tickles, even along her sore side. "Couldn't help myself."

"Uh huh, well while you were not helping yourself, everyone now thinks my boyfriend's groveling. So enjoy that."

He laughs again. "I am. Now, come in, I'll put your bag in my room – our room – and you can figure out how big the party Alexis tried to cover up was."

"How do you know she had a party?" Her eyebrow lifts.

"Please, Beckett, this is me." Off her look, he adds, "The doorman told me."

She grins. "Ah. Tattletale."

He grins, patting her ass on her way around him. Her glare isn't nearly as effective when she can't stop smiling.

Maybe this won't be completely terrible.

"Hi, Alexis," she greets tentatively, sliding her hand through her hair. "How's it going?"

"Hi, Detective, did you hear what my dad did?"

Smile fading, she bites her lip, sliding her hand into her pocket reflexively. So much for that optimism.

Alexis doesn't wait for her to confirm knowing what Castle's been up to to continue, "He got  _married_  in Atlantic City.  _Married_! I know he gets this way sometimes, crazy, I mean. I just can't believe he'd be so, ugh," she groans, looking up at Kate. "Sorry."

She smiles softly. "You're okay. That's uh, pretty crazy of him."

"And he won't even tell me who she is, either! He's married to this woman and he won't even tell me her name.  _But_ he keeps saying it's  _good_! How is that good? Plus, I thought he was waiting fo-" Alexis stops abruptly, looking away. Clearly, she's not supposed to know who he'd been waiting for, but she has more than some idea.

Her eyes cut to the bedroom. Is her partner hiding from his own daughter?

"Alexis," she starts, sliding her hand out of her pocket to touch the girl's knee. Her ring catches the light. "I don't know if this'll make you feel better or not, but maybe it is good? Or at least… not as bad as you're thinking?"

Alexis looks confused at first, like she's not sure where she's going with this. "How could it not be bad?"

Her fingers wiggle, trying to draw her attention to the ring without saying it.

The teenager's eyes dart down, widening almost comically. "That's… you're… oh my God,  _you_? I thought – I didn't know you were – you and my dad?" Alexis rears back quickly. "Wait, is this a trick? Is this Dad messing with me because of the party?"

"I  _knew_  it!" Castle sounds triumphant from the bedroom, but he doesn't emerge. That coward.

"Richard Castle, get in here," she calls over her shoulder. "I am  _not_  telling your daughter I married you while you hole up in your room." To Alexis she adds, "It's not a trick, Alexis. It's… a long story, and I came over so we could tell everyone over dinner, but you deserve to know first."

She stands. "And you should hear it from  _both_  of us, so give me a minute."

It doesn't escape her that this is the first time she's seen the inside of Castle's bedroom and she's not going to have the chance to even look around. He's waiting by the doorway holding one of her shirts. His eyes widen as she steps up, putting them toe to toe, nose to nose.

"Castle, get your ass out there," she hisses. "I am not telling Alexis this story without you there."

Castle swallows, lifting the fabric between them. "I was just unpacking for you…"

She swats the shirt away, grabbing his hand instead. "Unpack  _later_. I need you with me. This is  _not_  making the trauma up to me."

Whatever protest he might've had on the tip of his tongue falls away, melting into a soft smile and an apology he whispers against her lips.

"I'm sorry."

She squeezes his hand. "Just don't make me drag you out by your ear."

His hand clamps over his earlobe immediately. "That won't be necessary. Now if you want to grab me by the hair later, we can arrange tha-"

She yanks him out of the bedroom.

Alexis eyes them warily, but makes room for them on the couch. She pushes Castle to sit beside his daughter so she can sit sideways and see them both.

"So this isn't a trick," Alexis observes, glancing between their hands.

She exhales, tapping Castle's leg in lieu of bouncing her own knee. "No, no trick. And we didn't exactly… plan to do what we did."

"Get married."

"Right," she agrees, looking at Castle for assistance.

"You weren't even dating… were you?" Alexis stares at her father, obviously hurt that he might've been keeping something so big from her.

Castle shakes his head quickly, tugging Alexis in. The girl rests against him stiffly, but doesn't pull away. "No, pumpkin. We weren't dating. But last night we asked ourselves why not? After everything, why not just go ahead and promise each other we're not going anywhere and build on everything from there."

He looks at her for confirmation that he isn't just pulling a flowery sounding excuse out of his ass. Alexis eyes her, too, lifting her chin almost defiantly.

No doubt the girl thinks this was Castle's idea, something silly she'd just gone along with out of pity or something more heartless. Maybe even something to string him along.

"I asked him to marry me, Alexis. Because stuff like last summer… that was a mistake. Shutting everybody out was a mistake, but shutting your dad out was my biggest one."

"Kate," Castle murmurs, letting her off the hook again. She shakes her head, smiling tightly.

"I made a mistake thinking I had to figure things out and get back on my feet by myself. But I don't. Even now, I don't have everything figured out, but I want to be with your dad while I work on the rest. And I want him to be with me when he has stuff he needs to figure out, too."

Her eyes stay trained on Alexis as she speaks. She didn't say any of this to Castle last night, and she probably should've, but it's out there now for both of them. It's her undeclared declaration of love, one reminiscent of a conversation she and Castle had over a year ago about having someone to dive into things with, and it's the absolute truth.

"And that's… good, but you had to get married for that? You couldn't just start dating?"

She had a feeling Alexis might say that. Actually, everyone might say that.

"We've been dating for almost four years, pumpkin," Castle speaks up, his voice quiet. "On and off at times, but we've had a relationship for that long."

He kisses his daughter's forehead. "Remember when you told me I had to grow up?"

Alexis arches an eyebrow. "I'm not sure getting married in Atlantic City is a shining example of growing up, Dad."

Yeah, they have to give her that one.

"Maybe not, but you know what is? Working to be good for each other and for you. Being good for Gram and Beckett's dad. And maybe it's not the most conventional way to go about it, but who's to say it won't be great?"

Her hand slides into his, squeezing tightly. Castle smiles in return, jostling Alexis gently.

"Besides, maybe with Beckett on your team you'll be able to beat me at laser tag."

Alexis scoffs. "I  _always_  beat you. Beckett should probably be on  _your_  team if you want a shot at winning."

She laughs softly. "I don't have a vest."

Castle's chuckle spreads warmth through her belly. "If you want a vest, you'll get a vest."

She squeezes his hand again. Laser tag should probably remain a father-daughter thing for now, but she won't deny him his excitement.

"I know it's not ideal, Alexis." She licks her lips. "But we will find a way to make it up to you."

Alexis shrugs. "My dad got married – again – without me. It is what it is."

Castle shakes his head. "No, honey. It's not. I'm sorry. You should've been there."

Alexis just shrugs again as they share helpless looks. For once, Castle seems at a loss for words.

"Another ceremony," she blurts. "We'll have another ceremony and reception for everyone. Do it right. We can plan it. All three, four, five, whatever, of us can plan it. We never meant to exclude you; we just had to do it for each other."

It's all she can think of; a chance to apologize for hurting her with their impulsiveness. Castle's nodding his agreement, though, so she's confident he's in her corner with this suggestion.

"We'll do it again, all of it. We'll get married again."

" _Again_ , Katie? I didn't realize you'd gotten married a first time."


	5. Chapter 5

**Where we left off** :

_It's all she can think of; a chance to apologize for hurting her with their impulsiveness. Castle's nodding his agreement, though, so she's confident he's in her corner with this suggestion._

_"We'll do it again, all of it. We'll get married again."_

_"Again, Katie? I didn't realize you'd gotten married a first time."_

* * *

Maybe it's the element of surprise, a reminder of so many high school nights of attempting to sneak back into the house undetected (only to be caught and yelled at anyway), but she feels herself sink into the couch cushions at her father's voice. Oh God, her father just heard her talking about having another wedding before she'd even told him she'd had a first one.

Are they ever going to be able to  _tell_  someone without being caught first? Maybe Lanie will be the first? No, with their luck the boys will spill before she has the chance to talk to her best friend. Then they'll be facing the wrath of an angry Lanie on top of everything else. Maybe Gates? Her therapist?

From what she can see, Castle's cheeks have lost most of their color, too. Damn. Maybe she's told him one too many stories about her dad's reactions to her more rebellious days.

Well, she's a grown up now. How bad can it be? It's marriage; the news could be a lot worse.

Sucking in a breath, she jumps to her feet. Her spin manages to hide her left hand – the one still clenching Castle's – behind her back, away from her father's eyes for now.

Oh good, he's with Martha. That explains why nobody heard the door, and how he got in. They must've met on the way up. That's… great. That's so great.

"H-hey, Dad. Martha. How are you? Martha, how was your spa trip?"

It's obvious they're not buying her false cheerfulness. Of course, the dead silence coming from the peanut gallery behind her doesn't help. Without them, or at least Castle, she just sounds like she's trying too hard. Albeit she  _is_  trying too hard, but that's not the point.

"Oh, darling, it was fine. Same old, same old. Rest, relaxation, massages from hunky men in tight polo shirts." Martha waves her hand flippantly. "Imagine my surprise when I met your father on my way inside." Okay, that was exactly what she'd thought. "He told me you and Richard had something to tell us, but it seems like we've already  _heard_  your news. Or part of it at least."

Her cheeks flame. "That was… it's a long story, really."

She grips Castle's hand tighter, hoping he'll jump up and come to her rescue. It must be too much, because she hears him yelp. Her thumb sweeps over his skin in apology. If they have kids someday, they'll have to work on his knuckle strength. She doesn't want to break her husband's hand when she's in labor.

"Maybe… you should sit?" She shakes off that last thought quickly. Baby, no snail steps. Not babies, snails. Small, slow things.

Her father looks amused, but settles into the seat Martha gestures for him to take. Once he's seated, Martha perches on the side of the couch, looking around expectantly.

"We um, well…" She licks her lips, looking back at Castle and Alexis. Castle's still cradling his daughter against his chest, so she supposes he's forgiven for not getting up to help her. His daughter's eyes are locked on her, as if she's waiting to hear if her story will change.

Okay, so Alexis is still frustrated with them and distrustful of her. She can work with that. Frustration isn't anger, and it isn't hatred or something worse.

"So we were working a case and, well, the details don't really matter for this story, but Castle and the guys had to go to Atlantic City to check things out," she pauses to take a breath, looking around the room quickly. "Anyway, while they were there, they ran into some… trouble, and I drove down to join them."

"Trouble?" Alexis is the one to pipe up and she sees worry start to overtake the frustration. "What happened?"

"They were escorted out for asking too many questions… and they decided to sneak back in wearing Elvis costumes." She might as well be completely truthful with her partner's daughter now, even if her husband is giving her a long-suffering look for spilling the beans.

Alexis shakes her head, knocking against Castle affectionately. "Oh, Dad. You would come up with that."

"How do you know it was my idea?"

"I just know, Dad."

The chuckles that spread around the room are a good sign and she takes advantage of the pause to compose herself. "Once I got there, we were able to make progress. We decided I would come back today and make the last arrest we needed while the boys stayed behind and gave Ryan a little bachelor party."

Her father seems to be following her, and if he's not, he's nodding anyway so she continues,

"Anyway, the boys went to get a head start on their party, but Castle and I decided to stay and have food."

She bites her lip quickly. Better to just get it over with, spit it out, and let the chips fall where they may. "As we were eating, I proposed. We got married last night. In Atlantic City."

Extricating her hand from Castle's, she shows them her ring.

"And we know it was spur of the moment and impulsive, and we're sorry we didn't tell anyone, but we'll make it right." She looks between the three of them, taking care to meet their eyes and show them this isn't an empty promise.

Castle nods encouragingly, rubbing Alexis's arm. "We will. We want you all there for another ceremony like Kate said."

Alexis sighs, pressing her face into her father's chest for a moment.

"It's a weird start, we know," Castle adds. She nods in agreement. "And it sounds so anti-climactic to describe it, but we'll plan the next one together. All of us."

He hooks his index finger around her pinky, squeezing gently. It soothes the ragged edge of her nervousness and makes her brave enough to turn back to her father and his mother. They're both staring.

"Oh, and no, I'm not pregnant. Yes, we were completely aware of what we were doing; we were both drinking water at dinner. And no, we weren't dating…exactly. But we're going to make it work. So that's… what we wanted to tell you over dinner," she finishes lamely. "We got married. Surprise."

She takes a deep breath, releasing it slowly. The silence shouldn't unnerve her. She's used to staring down silent people and making  _them_ talk, after all. But this… she doesn't like this.

Ten seconds go by, then twenty, then thirty. Castle's finger brushes her pinky again, and she's not sure if it's to comfort her or himself.

"Dad, say something."

Okay, now she feels like she's sixteen again, and not in a good way. She hates breaking first.

"I'm," her father starts, glancing at Martha. "This is…"

And then he laughs. Mirth floods his face and laughter like she hasn't heard in years spills out of her father's mouth. The next thing she knows, Martha's chortling.

She knows she's gawking, she has to be gawking. They're  _laughing_  at her? At this?

Twisting, she finds Alexis giggling as well. Oh so  _now_  they all find the humor in the situation.

"I… what?"

"Oh, Katie." Her father takes a breath, hauling himself out of his chair and reaching for her. He's trying so hard to keep his laughter under control, but he's failing. "You don't do anything by halves, do you?"

"I-I, what are you talking about?" She presses into his shoulder for a moment, letting the scent of his aftershave calm her. He used to hug her like this after every stupid teenage fight as a promise it would all be okay.

Her confusion only makes him laugh again. "Katie, Katie, Katie. You are your mother's daughter, through and through."

Pulling back slightly, she's able to catch a flash of red go by. Good, Castle's mom's going to him. She's still laughing, of course, but she's going to him and Alexis.

"What do you mean?"

Her dad laughs harder, tightening his arms around her. "Do you know how many times your mom said to me, 'Jim, let's just go to Atlantic City and get it over with,' when we were planning our wedding?"

Her lips twitch. That sounds like her mother. As much as she appreciated tradition, she was all about efficiency.

"I guess she'd be happy then? That I skipped all the stress. At least for now."

"Sweetheart, she would be happy with whatever you chose as long as you were happy."

Warmth floods her chest. "You think so?"

"I think so, Katie." His lips touch her temple. "I also think she'd find this as hilarious as I do, given who your groom is…"

" _Dad_ ," it comes out as both a whine and a warning. She's shared a  _lot_  with Castle over the last day or so, but she doesn't need to share  _that_  just yet.

Jim just grins. "Are you happy, Katie? Unconventional as all this is, are you happy?"

"I- I mean I'm still getting used to the idea, but yeah I am."

It's the truth. There's still a hell of a lot to work out, between them as well as on her own, and she's well aware of that. God knows she's still not in the best shape yet, but even with the anxiety present, there's a contentment she hasn't felt in a long time. It's enough to have her pushing forward instead of hiding.

"Then I'm happy. And I can walk you into your reception if that's what you decide to have."

"Thanks, Dad."

She's no sooner stepped away from her father when Martha pulls her into a spinning embrace. The twisting motion makes her side protest, but she doesn't break away just yet. Martha's positively thrumming with excitement and she can't help but want to share in that.

"Does this… mean you're okay with this, Martha?"

"Well it's a surprise, of course, but you have to go at your own speed. And we all know love waits for no one, so who am I to judge?"

Her cheeks flame. A quiet, "Mother," from her partner tells her the tips of his ears are probably reddening in embarrassment, too. They haven't exactly  _said_  that yet. The 'love' part. She knows how he feels, and she's been hopeful her willingness to give this whole thing a shot illustrates her feelings, but the actual words haven't been uttered since they were pronounced husband and wife.

"Hush, Richard," Martha admonishes, rubbing the tension out of her arms. "Oh, darling, relax. It will all work out, and in the meantime, I say we celebrate. You said we're having dinner?"

She fights to push the topic of 'L' words and the memories they dredge up out of her mind for now. It's not the time, not even close to the time to deal with any of that. Not in front of her… family.

"Right, yes. Yes we are." Her eyes cut to her husband to find him observing her. He and Alexis are standing with her father, all three of them smiling. "Did you decide to order in?"

"Ah, no. No, I started something much, much better and put it in the fridge until we were ready to start cooking. Are we, ah, ready?" Castle claps his hands, lifting his eyebrows hopefully.

Alexis nods. "I'll help you, Dad."

"Thanks, pumpkin. It's marinated salmon. Which reminds me, Jim, Kate said you fish?"

"I try to, but I can't say I'm a fisherman. Most of the time I sit on the dock or in a boat, watch the water, and wait to get a bite. You should come with me sometime."

Castle's smile at the invitation takes up more than half his face. It should. Her father rarely invites her along – save for the two months they spent together while she was healing. Fishing has always been a solitary event for him. Even before her mother died, he'd always claimed it as his 'manly' adventure to help balance out living in a house full of estrogen and stubbornness.

"I'd like that, Jim, thank you. What about cooking what you catch? Do you clean and scale – de-scale? – too? I've dealt with fresh fish before, obviously, but it was never straight out of the water fresh. And of course I've been camping, but we've never gone fishing. Mostly hiking, cooking hot dogs and s'mores on a camp grill and campfire, that sort of thing," he adds, meeting her father's eyes a bit sheepishly.

Alexis shakes her head, smirking a little bit. "Dad gets excited, Mr. Beckett, don't mind him."

"Jim, please. And it's nice to have someone to lend my wisdom to. Katie just rolls her eyes at me. Ah, just like that."

Castle nods sagely, turning to wink at her. "I know that eye roll well."

She arches an eyebrow. "Are you two done comparing notes about me? Should Alexis and I get dinner started while you continue?"

The men chuckle together, exchanging a look that says they're not going to be done for a while.

"Fine. You two enjoy your bonding. We'll start working so we can eat before next week."

It's a little strange volunteering to take charge in Castle's kitchen, but she has to remind herself she's done it before. Even if they only managed to choke down a few bites of the breakfast she'd made while staying with them, she'd used his kitchen like it was her own. She can do the same now. Especially if his daughter helps her. Although she should let the girl take the lead. Yeah, that's what she'll do.

Alexis smiles quickly, politely, when she brings the food to the stove. "Can you grab the pans? I think it's ready to start."

"Sure. Anything else?"

"Umm, olive oil and some of the garlic, too?"

"On it."

They work with a quiet adeptness that probably doesn't match the usual Castle family cooking dynamic, but each time she starts to speak, her words run scared. Bravery with people she's not arresting hasn't exactly been her strong point lately, and her courage reserves feel nearly depleted by her earlier speech. She needs to try anyway. For everyone's sake. She and Alexis don't need to be best friends, and she's certainly not trying to replace her mom, or even horn in on "raising" her, but having understanding between them is important.

"Alexis," she starts once their rice is simmering. It's not the best opening, but it gets the teenager's attention.

In fact, Alexis stops her before she can go on. "It's not you. I mean I'm not mad it's you. Better you than anyone else, really. And I'm not really  _mad_  mad at all, I'm just…"

That's not exactly a vote of confidence, but she can understand why she would probably be the lesser of a number of evils. She nods anyway, encouraging the girl to speak her piece.

"I just wish I'd been there. If I'd been there, maybe I could've talked you out of it, or at least  _seen_  why it had to be last night, but instead I was just cut out," Alexis sighs. "And I know you didn't mean to do that. Just like Ash didn't mean to cut me out. But this is my dad; it's different. It  _should_  be different anyway."

"You're right, it is different. I'm sorry, Alexis. Like I said before, if you'll let us, we'd like to make it up to you."

"And I know that. But it's still going to take time. And you'll both have enough to do now that you're married…"

Her hand slides down Alexis's arm. "I understand about needing time, but making this up to you is a priority for me and for your dad. As for all the other married stuff, we can set a pace we're all comfortable with and deal with things as we need to."

Alexis still looks skeptical, but a bit happier with the promise of slow and steady.

"Okay," she agrees quietly. "Deal."

Kate squeezes her arm, exhaling softly. "Deal."

Sure, they've decided to dive into this marriage thing already, but there's no rule that says they have to go straight to the bottom of the deep end. They can paddle around for a while until they adjust.

Alexis smiles again finally. "So Elvis costumes, huh?"

She laughs. "Oh yeah. Your dad was in black and the boys were in white. Espo tried to call himself 'El-Vez' but that one didn't stick, thankfully."

That earns her a snicker. "Did you um, happen to get pictures of this?"

Now that she did. She eases her phone out of her pocket, glancing over to make sure Castle's attention is still otherwise engaged.

"I may have." She grins, nudging the phone over. Alexis takes it with a stealth she knows has to come in handy when dealing with Castle. By the time the phone is back in her pocket, Alexis can't quite hide her guffaws from her father.

"What? What's funny?" Castle's eyes snap to them both.

"Nothing, Blue Suede Shoes, nothing at all," Alexis calls cheerfully, lifting her eyebrows at her dad. "Sequins really are your style, Dad."

Castle narrows his eyes at them both. "You have pictures, Beckett?"

"Mmm, maybe," she singsongs. "Maybe I'm just an excellent storyteller and I described your outfit in detail to Alexis. She's right; sequins are your style, Castle."

"Evil woman."

She winks in return, giving up nothing else before going back to cooking.

A few minutes later, she accepts a gentle sideways squeeze and a rather large glass of champagne from Martha. Out of the corner of her eye, she spies Castle still talking animatedly with her father. They're getting along absurdly well. It's almost unsettling.

"Thank you, Martha, but um… my dad –"

"Richard's already taken care of him, darling. It's non-alcoholic, so don't you worry. But I thought you could use something with a little kick to it." She winks.

Alexis laughs beside her, shaking her head. "Gram's been looking for an opportunity to open that bottle."

Martha looks innocent. "And what better an occasion than this? We've celebrated life, now we're celebrating family."

She sips her champagne quickly, ignoring the bashful smile she feels spreading when Castle's eyes dart to her. They can make this work, they can.

"Family's a good thing to celebrate."

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Where we left off:**

_"We've celebrated life, now we're celebrating family."_

_She sips her champagne quickly, ignoring the bashful smile she feels spreading when Castle's eyes dart to her. They can make this work, they can._

_"Family's a good thing to celebrate."_

* * *

It's weird.

She's been married for just over a week and it's still weird. Not all of it, of course. Some things they've settled into relatively well – having coffee in the mornings, trading theory for their cases as they eat dinner in the evenings, the sex. Oh definitely the sex. In fact, it's a daily incentive for her to continue her physical therapy and limber up once again. Castle'll like that, too, when she's physically capable of being a little more creative.

No, those things are good. It's the other things that are weird. She's lived on her own for a long time; living with another person – three other people – is just odd. There's a lot of… togetherness in the Castle family. She'd experienced it once before on a smaller scale, but there's no retreating to the guest room this time.

Not to mention she has to think of them when she lets herself into the loft in the middle of the night, using a key that's still tricky and new. She tries to be mindful of them when her routine would have her jogging to the kitchen in her underwear for coffee, and when she wakes up with the crack of a rifle ringing in her ears and it's all she can do not to fall out of bed screaming and dive for cover. So far she's managed to calm herself from the nightmares by turning to Castle and using the press of his skin and the steady rhythm of his heart to help her forget. If he's noticed a pattern to her cuddling, he's been giving her the space to tell him why on her own. She appreciates that.

Sleeping in his room is weird, too. He's told her she's not a guest, but she can't help but still feel like one. It's still his space, not theirs. Which is fine, mostly. But she kind of misses her space, as embarrassing as that is to admit, given that she's a grown woman. They've only slept at her apartment once in the last week and she misses the quiet warmth of her own things. Maybe she can convince him to come home with her after work with the promise of using the privacy to their advantage.

Plus, it'll give her a reprieve from peeing beside Boba Fett.

She doesn't want to give Castle hell for it, to be a nagging wife already, but if she has to, she will. Boba's gotta move somewhere else. He scares the shit out of her. Figuratively speaking, of course, although every night she has to turn on the bathroom light before stepping in, otherwise it takes hours to soothe the painful staccato of panic from seeing a person in the bathroom waiting for her.

She's also learned something important in the last week. Her husband snores.

Well, he snuffles, his breath coming in soft little snorts whenever he rolls onto his back. At its loudest, she mentally toys with the idea of training him to sleep on his side, but she supposes she'll eventually get used to it. His side sleeping could put a damper on how they fall asleep after sex (and since that's the phenomenal part, she's not inclined to break that) so she's banking on learning to love his quiet puffs. Because she likes collapsing onto his chest, staying connected until he slips from her body.

But tonight his quiet puffing is keeping her awake and nudging him onto his side hasn't helped her doze off.

Now that the smoke has cleared and everyone knows, it's finally sinking in what they've done. They are  _married_. Not just for one night, not just for two or three, for good. Forever.

She really needs to see the shrink again.

Sliding out of bed without disturbing her husband would be easier if his – their – mattress wasn't reminiscent of a children's bounce house, but somehow she manages to scoot away. Castle's hand creeps into the indentation her butt has left in the sheets, but he doesn't wake.

Thankfully there's enough light coming in from the windows to guide her into his office without tripping over either of their shoes, or the clothing they'd tossed somewhat frantically after spending all day eyeing each other in the precinct without a hope of relief. The last thing she wants is to fall on her face while sneaking out of bed to think.

The loft's quiet, dark, and her footfalls barely register in the kitchen as she gets water and settles in front of the wide windows in Castle's office. The balcony isn't large, but maybe one morning they'll have the chance to have a quiet breakfast out there. Once things start making more sense.

They've gone from being… something more than nothing (really they were never nothing, no matter how many times she'd told herself they were) to being together 24/7 as a  _married_  couple. It's more overwhelming than she expected it to be. More overwhelming than she expected when she was making her bravado-laced assertions that they'd work everything out. She doesn't regret it, getting married, but there's something to be said for actually being in a real relationship with the man first.

Should they have done it that way? Taken a step back and given a relationship a go before jumping into a marriage? Should they still do that? Surely if she tells Castle that's what she needs, he'll be okay with it?

Isn't it better to take a breather first before she unwittingly does something terrible to that big, wonderful, open heart of his. The last thing she wants is to hurt him or Alexis because of this. Because she thought she was more ready than she really is.

"Kate?"

She twists carefully, pressing her hand against her side. The damn surgical scar won't leave her alone tonight. Maybe that's why she can't sleep. Maybe it has nothing to do with sharing Castle's bounce-house bed, the damn life-sized Boba Fett in the bathroom, or wondering if this is really her home, because it just doesn't feel like it yet.

But it's only been a week, she reminds herself. Just a week.

It probably is the scar. And her sleepiness making her edgier than she needs to be.

"Hey, did I wake you?"

Castle shakes his head, but his yawn says otherwise. "Thought you might've gotten a call."

His hand slides over the back of her head, combing through the tangles of her hair gently. Oh that feels good. Her eyes slip shut.

"Sorry. I just got thirsty."

"S'okay. You want company?"

Oh if he's asking, she must look bad. Castle's always been the do first, apologize later – much, much later – type.

"Sure."

He perches on the arm of her chair, fingertips pressing against her scalp. She won't admit to the noise she makes, but oh it feels good. Her forehead lands on his thigh.

"Headache?"

"Now that you mention it, yeah," she exhales.

"And your side's bugging you, too," he observes, somehow twisting enough to press his other hand to the spot along her ribcage.

"A little."

"Liar." He kisses her hair. "Come back to bed, Kate. I'll give you a massage."

She sighs, bumping her cheek against his leg.

"Castle?"

His fingers still. "What's wrong?"

"I may need to go home, just for a little while."

"I… because of me?"

Her thumb skims over his knee. Touching him is the easy part. Why can't they just communicate entirely through touches? Why do they have to find words for this stuff?

"Because we're still adjusting. Isn't it a lot at once?"

"Well, yeah. But I thought we were doing okay." Now he sounds panicked, which only makes her want to kick herself. She shouldn't do this to him when they're both exhausted.

"We are, we are. We're okay, Castle. I'm just… I don't wanna screw up by doing something, or saying something awful when I don't mean it that way."

Instead of responding, he squishes onto the chair with her, drawing her halfway into his lap.

"Kate, you know what the one thing I've learned from my other marriages is?"

"You have questionable judgment and odd taste in women?"

His lips press against her jaw. "You're going to screw up. To screw up is to be married."

"Oh that's deep, Castle."

"I try for you, Beckett."

His fingers curl around her knee. "I mean it, Kate. We're gonna screw up, but we just have to keep working at it instead of running scared."

Oh brutally honest Castle is back. This is what she gets for startling him in the middle of the night.

"I just need time to get used to it, Castle."

"Like you needed time after you were shot?" It's not as cutting as it probably should be, but the frustration, the lingering bitterness, is still evident.

"Ye –" she bites down on the immediate answer. The one that would hurt him more. "No, no, not like that. I just need something more familiar for a bit. My apartment. My… stuff."

He softens again, his hand squeezing gently. "So we'll go to your place. Tonight even, get your shoes and let's go. And I'll order some boxes and we can pack things here to put into storage to make room."

"I'm, no, no not tonight… you will?"

She's barely finished the question when his mouth covers hers, his tongue pushing past her lips.

"Cas –"

Okay, he's making a compelling argument here; she can see where he's coming from with this. Her hand slides into his hair, tugging on the wayward strands gently.

"We'll split time between places first and I'll start packing things. Then when you're ready… you can start packing things? No timetable, I swear."

Her racing heart starts to calm finally. No timetable. She's not letting him down by needing to go back to her apartment. As long as she takes him with her. That's his message here.

Their foreheads touch. "No timetable?"

"No timetable, Kate." He kisses her again softly. "Cause believe it or not, it's weird adjusting to living with another woman, too."

Not that she'd know it, based on the sanguine way he reacts to everything.

"Yeah?"

"Uh huh. You have your own set of quirks. I know Alexis and Mother's by now, but I'm learning yours. For one, you hog the covers."

"Yeah, well, you snore."

He gasps in mock horror, twisting to meet her eyes. "I would  _never_  snore."

"Sorry to tell you." She clucks her tongue. "You snore, and I think you may have drooled in my hair last night."

He whines, " _Beckett_  that is  _so_  not sexy."

She flicks his ear gently in warning. It's late, and he's being loud. "Sorry, lover."

His chest shakes beneath her arm as he chuckles. "Lover, I like it."

Yeah, she knows he does. "And if it makes you feel better," she adds quietly, lifting her eyes to his. "You made up for it quite well in the shower."

"Ohh, when I-"

She nods, biting her lip quickly. "Yeah." Oh that was good. That was so  _very_  good.

"And then we-"

"Mhmm." Her mouth finds his chin, hiding her smile against his skin.

"Mhmm," he echoes. "Kay, but that's my point. We got the sexy and the non-sexy, Kate. And if the non-sexy outweighs the sexy once in a while, that's okay."

"Cause that's what marriage is?"

He nods, palm sliding down her back soothingly. "We can't be dead sexy all the time. I mean, I can, I know," he laughs again, trying without success to squirm away from her poking fingers. That's what he gets for having such stupidly small chairs.

"Are you saying I can't be dead sexy all the time, Castle?" She lifts an eyebrow.

"I – what? No! Of course not.  _You_ , my muse, my bride, transcend sexy every moment of every day, and thrice on weekend days."

Her eyes roll slowly. "Cute, Castle."

"I try." The impish grin fades after a second. "So is that… a deal? No timetable, just trying? Your place, mine, wherever you wanna be? But we do it together."

She nods slowly, relaxing into him even more. It's so late and she's so tired; she doesn't have it in her to argue. Tonight, at least, she'll have to trust that he won't let them crash and burn. For their sakes and for the rest of his family's sake.

"Yeah, that's a deal."

"Good." He pulls her closer. "Wanna go back to bed?"

She nods, unfolding herself from the chair. "Yeah, let's go back to bed." She offers her hand to him, wiggling her fingers against his cheek.

Soft lips press against her palm, flooding her heart with warmth. She doesn't want to give this up. It's terrifying, but she doesn't want to give him up.

Taking her hand, Castle heaves himself out of the chair, crowding into her space without thinking. Has he ever worried about her personal space? Has she?

His eyes sweep over her face, searching for something she's not sure she can name. Assurance, maybe? That he didn't just browbeat her or bully her into staying with him when she really doesn't want to stay.

Lifting onto her toes, she presses her mouth to his. "Bed, Castle. I'll let you have more of the covers this time."

He smiles under her lips. "I'll try not to drool in your hair."

"Mmm, please do." Taking a step backward, she tugs him back to his room and the tangled mess of the sheets on their bed.

* * *

Four days later – after spending the last three nights at her apartment – he packs the first box. It's small; trinkets mostly, taken from the bookshelves between the office and the living area, but even the intention makes her cheeks flush. He's making room for her in his life. Hopefully she's done some of the same for him the last couple days. There's space for his clothes at her place, which is a start, right?

"What do you think?"

Her eyes lift from her book. She's discovered another perk of marrying him: the books. Not that her collection is especially lacking, but his has titles she's wanted to read for years but never had the chance to tackle.

"Hmm?"

He's holding out a toy, looking thoughtful.

"Keep, store, or toss, Beckett?"

"I – don't ask me, Castle. It's yours. Keep it all if you want. I don't want you to throw your things away for me."

Castle sighs. "I don't want you to not have your stuff."

"Well I'm not moving in tomorrow." She doesn't mean to snap it at him, but she's tired and she just wants to read right now. She doesn't want to think about being ready or not being ready. Or how he's making room for her, but she's lagging behind because she's still trying to get herself together quietly.

Her husband squares his shoulders, hurt flashing across his face.

She shakes her head, putting the book to the side and reaching for his hand. "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"I want you to feel at home, Kate. Yeah, I like my stuff, but I know you don't need to like my stuff."

"Oh I like your stuff." Abandoning his hand, her finger hooks in his belt loop. It's a great means of tugging her reluctant husband closer. His breath hitches a little as he tries to hold onto his aggravation. "Your stuff is more than likeable."

He jumps underneath her wandering hand.

She's trying to distract him, to avoid a fight, to do what he once accused her of doing – never talking about it.

Castle sighs, leaning over and cupping her cheeks. He knows what she's doing, too, and he's letting her get away with it this time. "My stuff thanks you."

She squeezes his ass in response.

"If you want to keep it, keep it. If you don't want to display it, put it in storage. If you've been hanging onto it for no reason, throw it away and I'll bring back something small to take its place when we stay at my place next time."

Look at her. She can compromise for him.

"Eh, this one's cheap. It can go in the trash." Said tchotchke goes sailing, missing the trash by a mile, but neither of them make any move to pick it up. One of them will probably step on it later, but who cares?

"Kay." Her fingers clench again, rocking his hips into her. "You wanna forget packing that box and come have sex with me?" She presses her lips to his hip.

"I – uh – yes. Yes, I want to do that very much."

Her lips connect with his belly, tracing the line of the dress shirt's placket. "Yeah?"

She slips the first button free, eyes locked on his.

"That's agreeable to you, Mr. Castle?"

She wets her lips quickly, sliding her hands upward.

Another button slides free.

"Yes," he clears his throat. "Yes, that is… quite agreeable."

Her nose brushes his skin when another button gives way. It's risky, undressing him here in the office, in nearly plain view of the entire loft, but they can always dart into his room if someone comes.

"Mhmm, I'm glad to hear that."

Her tongue flits around his navel, drawing a shudder from him. She makes quick work of the rest of his shirt buttons before moving downward to his jeans. Stopping just shy of his zipper, she meets his eyes again.

"Then let's do that. Leave the boxes for another time."

Castle dips his head, drawing her mouth to meet his, thus sealing the bargain with one hell of a kiss. She's on her feet a moment later, using his pockets to tug him into his bedroom. After a quick sidestep to kick the toy against the trashcan, he tugs his bedroom door shut, pulling her against him firmly.

It's not talking, not exactly, but she'll make sure he has no complaints tonight.


	7. Chapter 7

**Note** : This chapter picks up a little bit after chapter 6 ended.

**Where we left off:**

_"Then let's do that. Leave the boxes for another time."_

_Castle dips his head, drawing her mouth to meet his, thus sealing the bargain with one hell of a kiss. She's on her feet a moment later, using his pockets to tug him into his bedroom. After a quick sidestep to kick the toy against the trashcan, he tugs his bedroom door shut, pulling her against him firmly._

_It's not talking, not exactly, but she'll make sure he has no complaints tonight._

* * *

"Where should we go for our honeymoon?"

His fingers trail over her bare back, drawing semi-abstract patterns and the occasional scribble that may actually be their initials and hearts. In her sleepy state, she's not quite sure. Maybe she should start taking vitamins or energy supplements. Something to help counteract the overwhelming exhaustion she feels after their more rigorous couplings.

"Mmm?" Forming actual words takes effort, but he seems to know what she means.

"Honeymoon, Beckett. A trip traditionally taken by newlyweds soon after joining in matrimony. Typically characterized by beaches that aren't seen for a few days and a luxury hotel room at the very least."

Rolling her eyes doesn't work quite as well when her eyelids won't stay up long enough to complete the action, but she gives it a shot anyway. "Yes, Castle, I am aware  _what_  a honeymoon is."

"Uh huh," he hums, drawing another nonsensical figure along her spine. "So where would you like to go?"

"Somewhere warm," springs off the tip of her tongue. "But I don't think I can go any time soon."

"Oh." His breath ruffles her hair. He's disappointed; she can tell just from that single puffed syllable.

"But hey," she adds, forcing her eyes open and dragging her tired body up to rest on her elbow. "I'll find out how much vacation time I have left, okay? Maybe they didn't use it all over the summer."

She'd never really bothered to ask how much of her leave was counted as disability and how much was paid vacation time, but she'll ask for him. For them. They deserve a honeymoon, quickie marriage or no. They deserve to be able to jet set off somewhere and live in their own little world for a while.

Her lips brush his cheek. "But if I only have a little left or if I can get a day or two in a row… maybe we can go to your place in the Hamptons? Minimize our travel time; maximize our time spent not seeing the beach?"

"We can go to the Hamptons anytime," he grumbles, palm flattening against the small of her back. "Don't you want to go somewhere we've never been?"

"You know, technically, I've never been there. But I'd like to."

His brow furrows slightly. "You would?"

"I would," she confirms, tapping her finger against his collarbone for emphasis. "You even invited me once," she adds.

"I did do that." His eyes widen.

"I was late saying yes…" This time her finger starts absently tracing their initials on his skin.  _RC_ first,  _KB_  a few seconds later, and finally a girlish  _KC_  she's not sure he even catches. "But I wanted to. And I was so angry with myself, and with you, because I was too late."

It's the first time she's told anyone other than Lanie what happened two summers ago. Strangely enough, it feels good telling him. Freeing. Like there's one less brick between them.

That's something she's trying to work on. Talking to him, telling him this stuff. Any stuff. Whatever it takes to head off the late night meltdowns and show him she's not always running scared.

Her hand slides down, pressing against his heart firmly.

"M'sorry I was too late. Think we can have a do over?" She kisses his chest, looking up from under her lashes. "If not as our honeymoon, as another trip?"

"I, yes, of course we can. Yes. But I thought… you had other plans back then."

She hides her wince in his chest. "I kind of…changed them indefinitely. And I started to tell you that, but-"

His breath hitches as the pieces finally fall into place. "But then Gi-"

"Yeah," she interrupts before he can finish the thought. "Then that."

"I'm sorry, Kate." His frown deepens at the thought of their missed opportunity, at what it could've been if she'd been more direct, instead of flat out telling him it'd never happen only to expect it to happen anyway.

"Me, too." Stretching up, she kisses him softly. "So maybe we can have our do over with what time I have left for the year, and then when we have more time to play with, we can plan something bigger? To go along with the actual wedding we promised everyone?"

His thumb smudges across her cheek. "I like that idea quite a bit, Mrs. Castle."

Now he's smiling so she is, too. The past is in the past, finally. Now they're moving ahead.

Their mouths collide again, nipping a bit more this time. "You know if you keep calling me that in private, one day you're going to slip up in public. Probably in front of Gates."

Castle's laugh is deep, cocky, and his hands steady her hips as she straddles him. Most of her earlier fatigue has fled for the time being, leaving her body singing for him again.

"And that," she hums, dipping to trace his Adam's apple with her tongue. "Would be just our luck."

His fingers curl around her thigh, stroking idly. She shivers, arching in to his hand, urging him to move it higher. Instead, he traces the same patterns and shapes he doodled on her back, content with gentle teases.

"You managed to tell Lanie in time. We got one in without being caught."

Her hips rock into his hand, seeking greater contact. Come  _on_ , Castle.

"Barely. If she and Espo were still talking, he would've screwed it all up." Her mouth slides across his neck. He arches under her, his groan vibrating through his skin and across her lips.

"Wife, no offense, but don't talk about Esposito or Gates while your mouth is there and the rest of you is doing  _that_."

She giggles in response, smoothing her hand over his chest. As if talk of the people in their lives could dampen his libido.

"Then you,  _husband_ , don't mention  _Lanie_  while your hand is  _there._ "

The upturn of his lips lets her know he is absolutely up to no good, but she's going to love it anyway.

"Why don't we stop talking about other people altogether?" he suggests, curling his fingers  _just_  right.

A breathy gasp from her seems to be agreement enough for him.

From then on, the only words they utter are about each other and for each other's ears only. Well, each other and maybe her neighbors, the poor people. Thank God they're not at the loft tonight.

* * *

"Kate, where are you?"

Something about his tone penetrates the roaring in her ears. He sounds scared, worried. For her? Why is he worried about her?

Vaguely she remembers her phone ringing a few dozen times since leaving the precinct, but it's… most of it's a blur. Were all those calls him?

"Cassle?" Is that her voice?

"Beckett, I've been calling you for hours. Are you okay? You said you were heading home, but you're not home. Where are you?"

Home. She's… no, she's at her place. Not home. The loft's home now. Castle is home.

"Cassle, I'm…can you come?" She's not okay. They've been doing so well,  _she's_  been doing so well. She promised to check on her time off to get them something resembling a honeymoon. And now this case. This  _sniper_.

"Where, Kate? Tell me where. I'll be right there."

"My place. M'at my place."

"I'm on my way, stay put."

She nods, despite the fact that he can't see her. A flash from outside has her backing deeper into the corner. Her hip bumps her gun. She must've dropped it when she realized her phone was ringing.

"Kate?"

"M'here. M'stayin'. M'stayin' with you," she promises, echoing his words from May. "M'staying."

Castle exhales. "Good, Kate, that's good. Just keep talking to me. Just keep talking. What happened?"

Dropping her head to her knee, she does her best to remember the last few hours. Her words come out in stilted, probably unrecognizable sentences. Castle's replies are soft, encouraging, even if they sound more like nonsense to her. They might actually be nonsense, but they help.

"I'm almost there, Kate, I'm almost there. Is your door locked?"

"Uh huh… chain, too, I think." She vaguely remembers the jingle of the chain as she stumbled inside.

Her husband hums soothingly in her ear. "I'll let you know when I'm at the door."

"Kay, okay." She presses the heel of her hand against her eye, trying to banish the panic. He's coming, he'll be here. "Thank you."

"Husband, Kate. It's all part of the job description."

Exhaling shakily, she whispers her thanks again. This isn't part of the job description. Not for a husband, not for a partner.

"You're safe, Beckett. You're safe," he assures, ignoring her gratitude.

Part of her wonders why he's panting. Is he running? Has he been running this whole time?

"I'm coming up the stairs now. Can you meet me?"

"Y-yeah, yeah I can." She almost sounds normal now, almost. "I'll come now."

She staggers to her feet, legs shaking with the effort. The short walk to the door feels like it takes forever, but she makes it, waiting until Castle's distinctive knock sounds to fumble with the door chain.

He reaches for her automatically, dragging her into him. Not that she protests at all. She sinks into his chest, barely recognizing the strangled sound that comes from her lips.

"You're okay, you're okay," he chants, relief infusing every syllable. "You're okay, honey, you're okay."

When he starts to step back, her fingers grip his shirt to keep him from pulling away. Her knees won't hold her if he goes, she knows that much.

"Notyet."

Castle nods, banding his arm around her tighter. He takes her weight without protest, lets her sag against him as his mouth slides against her temple and down her cheek.

"Beckett, you're bleeding."

He must be looking her over. She remembers the sting, but not exactly what caused it.

"I," she fumbles. "I think I cut my arm."

His large hand warms the back of her head. "We gotta clean it. You might need stitches."

"No hospitals, Castle. I can't… no hospitals. No hospitals, no doctors, please."

It's obviously not what he wants to hear, but he nods. "No hospitals. You know if you wanted to play doctor with me, Beckett, all you had to do was ask. My way would be a lot more fun and involve fewer actual injuries." His voice shakes a little with the feeble attempt at a joke.

God, she has to pull it together for him.

"We can play it your way next time, Castle," she croaks, pressing her face against him.

"Good. It's way,  _way_ , more fun. Plus, you'd make scrubs look so, so hot."

Somehow he always does this; he always manages to fortify her when she's unable to do it for herself. Her lips find his jaw and she's able to center herself with his scent.

"Bathroom, first aid kit's in the bathroom." With each deep breath she takes, her thoughts come clearer.

Castle nods, leading her away from her door steadily. He's being so careful with her. Lights go on as they walk, bathing her apartment in warmth she'd denied herself earlier.

"Kate," he breathes. "This place..."

He's right; it looks like something exploded in her living room. Everything's askew. Her normally orderly throw pillows are half on the floor. They're in good company with the lamp. She remembers knocking that over.

"Stay here, you're barefoot and there's glass everywhere. I'll clean this up quickly and then clean you up."

"No! No. Just… we'll walk slowly. It'll be fine. Don't go." She's dangerously close to begging, but the thought of being left in the middle of this chaos honestly terrifies her.

"Okay, okay, Kate. Okay. Then stand on my feet and I'll walk for both of us."

As if he isn't already walking for the both of them. Still, she steps up carefully, wrapping one arm around his neck. They're nearly nose to nose this way and she takes the opportunity to kiss him.

It's a little desperate – sloppy, wet – and her nails bite into his shirt collar, but he doesn't complain. He matches each kiss, each movement, every flick of her tongue and quiet groan. He was so worried for her; he needs this, too.

Somehow he manages to walk them both into her bedroom and kiss her at the same time. Her husband is nothing if not multitalented.

This time when he releases her, it's to lower her onto her bed. He takes a great deal more care than she might have; if it'd been left up to her, she probably would be in an undignified heap. Thankfully, she sways but she doesn't fall.

Castle's thumbs swipe her cheeks, wiping away the remnants of tears. "You're okay, honey."

It's the second time the term of endearment has spilled from his mouth. Surprisingly, she likes it.

"Yeah," she breathes, letting the last of the fight leave her. They're safe. Here in this room, together, they're safe. The blinds are closed; they're okay now.

Still, she flinches when he flicks the light on to inspect the wound on her arm. He doesn't comment, but he does cradle her hand, pressing the back of it against his chest so she can feel his heartbeat as he studies the damage.

"What's the diagnosis, Dr. Castle?"

"I'll clean it out and see, but think you're going to get by with just butterfly bandages."

His mouth touches her knuckles. "There's your local kissesthesia."

Oh he's a dork. Her sweet, good-hearted dork. She smiles for him, dipping forward to take another slow kiss from his lips. He pulls away all too soon, rubbing his nose against hers.

"I'll be right back, okay?"

"Kay," she agrees, keeping his hand until distance dictates letting go. "Under the sink, Castle."

Somehow he manages to stay where she can see him the entire time he's rifling through the first aid kit. Any other time and she might tease him about it, but he knows exactly what she needs tonight.

Him. She needs him.

He patches her up with efficient, practiced hands. She wonders how much of his experience comes from patching Alexis up and how much of it comes from patching himself up after one of the crazy "research" schemes his daughter has told her about over dinner lately.

"Probably a third was Alexis and the rest me," he answers her unspoken question with a quirk of his lips. "Maybe once or twice was Mother after a rehearsal or fellow diva incident."

She smiles. "You're good at it."

His head dips. "Thanks."

It's not exactly the playing doctor experience she would've liked to have with her husband, but maybe sometime soon they'll rectify that.

"Kate?" He secures the bandage around her wrist gently, pressing their palms together to steady the soft trembles running through her fingers.

"Yeah?"

"Let me take you home, please?"

"Castle, I'm fine," she protests softly. They don't need to see her like this at home.

"All the more reason to come home, then. I'll come back here tomorrow while you're at work and clean up. Let's just go home and get some sleep. If anyone's still up when we get there, I'll keep them occupied."

She won't sleep, she knows, but she's out of excuses to hide here and keep the others at bay. She doesn't want to keep him from home either.

"Okay. Take me home."

He helps her up, rubbing her back gingerly. "Taking you home."

* * *

She doesn't sleep, not really. Nightmares keep her up. Each time she wakes, Castle's there brushing her sweaty hair off her forehead and whispering comfort to her.

At one point, she wakes gripping his arm, hushed apologies for lying taking up the space between them. He asks what she's lying about, but the explanations die on her tongue as she drifts off again. It's the longest stretch of sleep she actually gets.

She knows he worries for her all night and most of the day, too. He keeps his distance at work; staying close by without being overbearing, only to claim his place by her side once the ordeal ends. Gates has given her a wide berth today, so she takes advantage of it to touch his hand.

"Come somewhere with me?"

He agrees without a second thought, jumping to his feet and gesturing for her to go ahead. To lead him wherever she needs him.

"Where are we going?" He only asks once, as they slide into her cruiser in tandem. When she says he'll see, he just nods, dropping his hand to brush her thigh as she drives.

She has no idea where he was expecting her to take him, but he looks honestly surprised when she finds a parking spot along the curb in front of a reasonably non-descript office building.

"I have an appointment with someone; I want you to come with me?" She hates how it sounds like a question.

His hand covers hers, the wedding ring he hasn't taken off – not even in the precinct – since she slid it onto his finger pressing against her knuckles. "Then let's go, Kate."

Their fingers stay loosely wrapped together on the way into the building. She knows he's curious, but his gaze remains steady. He doesn't look around, doesn't try to decide where they are based on a directory posted by the front desk, he just follows her. If he's surprised when she wraps her arms around his waist and leans into him once the elevator doors close, he doesn't show it.

Exhaustion has her head tucking under his chin and her eyes sliding shut. He's so steady, so wonderfully steady. She wants to stay right here, tucked against him. It's a short elevator ride; they don't have much time to cuddle like this, but this is nice for right now.

Castle rubs her back slowly, dipping his fingers under her jacket and shirt to press against her skin.

She pulls away when the elevator stops, pressing a kiss to his jaw. His hand reaches for hers, offering silent support for whatever she's about to show him.

The office door looms at the end of the hall, but she tugs him forward before she can lose her nerve. She's actually on time for her appointment this time; hopefully they won't wait long.

Dr. Burke's receptionist greets her with a pleasant smile. She likes this woman. She's friendly without being over the top, which is probably what this business needs.

"Kate Beckett. I have the um, 5:45 appointment."

"He's finishing up with his last appointment, but he'll be ready for you in a moment."

"Thanks."

Turning back to her husband, she finds him looking around thoughtfully.

"Beckett… is this your …" he trails off, looking around. "Is this your gynecologist?" he whispers, eyes wide. "Because I know we didn't really  _talk_  about things, but… were we not careful? Are you – why are you laughing?"

She thumbs his cheek. "No, no I'm not and this isn't my gynecologist, Castle. But it's very sweet of you to worry. This is a different appointment, though."

"Oh."

Pressing a kiss to his cheek, she hums. "Trust me, when that does happen, your ass will be beside me in the exam room."

He lights up at that, at the subtle confirmation that one day they will get there.

"My ass and I will be there with bells on."

"Your ass?" she hums, glancing down at his belt teasingly. "Or something else?"

"Oh you are dirty, Beckett. I mean I can be into that if you're into that. Are you into that?" His eyebrows wiggle.

Not for the first time, she's glad she tugged him into the corner of the room to wait. There's no reason someone else should hear this conversation.

"Might be festive."

Castle nods sagely. "Christmas  _is_  coming up."

She snickers, pressing her face into his shoulder. "It is, isn't it? Should that be your present to me?"

"Bells on my –"

"Kate?"

Saved by the doc. She shushes her husband quickly before nodding at Dr. Burke.

"Come on, Castle." Her fingers clench in his sleeve. "I want to introduce you."

Castle nods, all playfulness gone from his face. He knows what it's taken for her to bring him here. Even if he hasn't figured out exactly what kind of appointment this is (she'd be surprised if that's the case), he knows what it takes to open up like this.

"Hi," she greets Burke quietly.

"How are you doing today, Kate?"

"I'm," she pauses, looking at Castle. Poor man, he looks like he's holding his breath, awaiting her answer. She slides her hand down his sleeve, hoping to comfort him with the gesture, if not her words. "I'm better, getting there. But that's why I wanted to introduce you. Castle, this is Dr. Burke, my therapist. Dr. Burke, this is my husband, Richard Castle."

* * *

As soon as she steps out of Burke's office, Castle's on his feet. She knows he didn't love being told he had to wait outside, but after that session, she's almost glad he wasn't there. What was said in there shouldn't have been his introduction to her therapy.

"Hey." She fixes her hair quickly, hoping her last breakdown isn't as obvious as she thinks it is. Her mascara is long gone; most of her makeup's been scrubbed away for that matter. Even her voice is a little rough.

"Hey," he echoes. She watches him lift his hands, only to let them flop at his sides, before pressing herself against his chest. He sags in relief, wrapping his arms around her tightly enough to make her wonder who's holding up who.

"Are you okay?" They ask as one. She squeezes him.

"I asked you first, Castle."

He nods rapidly. "Yeah, yeah of course I am. Are you? No offense, but you looked better before you went in there."

"You flatter me," she drawls, trying to draw the panicked look from his face.

"No, no, that's not… what I meant."

She puts him out of his misery quickly. "I know. Come on, let me settle up with Angie and we can talk on the way home."

"Kay."

He's like a statue as he waits by the door, unmoving, protective, but she finds out from Angie that he paced the entire time she was in Burke's office. Oh, Castle.

"He's concerned," she explains quietly, unsure of why she's justifying their probably screwed up looking relationship to someone who's not her actual therapist or their family. "I kind of sprang the appointment on him."

"He's sweet."

She smiles softly. "Yeah he is."

He offers her his arm when she approaches. "Alexis said she's doing dinner tonight if you're hungry." In other words, if she's up to coming home before everyone else is in bed.

"Starving." Her cheek lands on the top of his shoulder as they wait for the elevator. "Do I have clothes?"

He hums thoughtfully, thumbing her knuckles. "You should. I did laundry the other day. Plus I picked up the dry cleaning before we got this case."

"Mhmm, good. We can go straight home, then." Even if she's not up to it, Castle shouldn't have to wall himself off from his daughter to be with her. Burke has encouraged her again to surround herself with family, to brace herself with them instead of against them, so that's what she'll do.

He smiles gratefully, gesturing for her to step onto the elevator once the car arrives.

"So… you asked where I went yesterday," she offers, speaking into his shoulder. "I was here. I've been seeing Dr. Burke. He's been trying to help me. The jumpiness, the nightmares… he says I have PTSD. I didn't want to admit it at first, but… yeah, I do."

She exhales with the admission. "And there's something else I need to tell you."

Castle's mouth touches her brow. "You remember, don't you?"

There's no recrimination, no anger, just genuine concern. He's probably suspected for a while, maybe even longer than they've been sleeping together, but he isn't holding it against her. Just like she can't hold it against him for asking her to step away from the case in September at the behest of Montgomery's "friend." (He doesn't know she knows, but it's what she gets for snooping through his office one sleepless night last week. As angry as she'd been, she'd wanted to go back to bed with him and stay pressed into his side more, and so she's let it go for now.)

"Yeah," she breathes, shutting her eyes. "I remember. And I just – I'm sorry I lied to you, Rick."

His lips slide across her forehead.

"Kate, did you marry me because you felt guilty for lying?"

Her eyes fly open. "What? No! No, I wouldn't… do that to you – I wouldn't be cruel like that."

"I know." He fixes her with a serious look. "I know why you did it."

He does?

"You married me to  _show_  me you knew and to show me you do, too."

O-oh. That's… not far off at all, actually. She nods in confirmation, not trusting her voice at all. She does know he loves her; she loves him, too.

Cupping the back of his neck, she pulls him closer. "I'm trying to be better, to climb out of her murder. To be more than that."

He kisses her carefully, tongue slipping out to trace every ridge and bump on her abused lower lip. "I know. I know you are. Thank you for letting me climb with you."

A short "ahem" startles them apart. How long have they been holding the elevator?

"Sorry, we're sorry."

Castle takes charge this time, pulling her into a corner of the lobby. Before she has a chance to tease him about how illicit it all feels, he's kissing her again, holding her face like she's something precious he worries he might break. She presses closer, holding his hips to steady herself.

"I love you, Kate." Her heart hiccups at the words. She's not on the grass, she's not dying. She's right there with him, as whole as they both can be under the circumstances.

"I love you, too," she breathes, lifting her hand to cup his cheek. A giddy smile blossoms on her lips. "I love you, too."

He laughs, his eyes watery at the admission. Oh, he might have known it, but there's just something about hearing it, isn't there?

Thumbing his ear, she kisses him again, a little harder this time. "Let's take our mini-honeymoon this weekend, okay?"

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

**Where we left off:**

_"I love you, Kate." Her heart hiccups at the words. She's not on the grass, she's not dying. She's right there with him, as whole as they both can be under the circumstances._

_"I love you, too," she breathes, lifting her hand to cup his cheek. A giddy smile blossoms on her lips. "I love you, too."_

_He laughs, his eyes watery at the admission. Oh, he might have known it, but there's just something about hearing it, isn't there?_

_Thumbing his ear, she kisses him again, a little harder this time. "Let's take our mini-honeymoon this weekend, okay?"_

* * *

It's ridiculous to be this nervous to go on a trip with a man she's already married to.

Lanie tells her as much as she agonizes over what little clothing remains in her dresser drawers, debating if a last minute trip to Victoria's Secret is in order. It isn't a honeymoon, but it  _is_  a honeymoon. Shouldn't she allow herself to surprise her husband with something new? Not just something she hasn't worn for him yet in the short time they've been married.

"Stop laughing at me, Lanie. This is a big deal."

"Of course it is, Kate. It's your first vacation with your  _husband_. Maybe we should go pick up some sexy little number for you. These are nice, but if he's pawed through your underwear drawer at all, he's seen them."

She sighs. "Well he's going to have to deal with something he's already seen I think, because we're leaving soon and it'll take too long to get there and back and finish packing."

Lanie taps her lips. "Not if I go right now. You keep packing and  _I_  will go take care of your little honeymoon present."

"Lanie, no, no. Don't do that."

Her friend's already grabbing her purse. She holds up a hand to stop the rest of her protests. "No arguing. Think of it as the bridal shower gift I didn't get to give you."

"Well there's going to be another wedding… I could do that then, have the shower…"

"Then I'll buy you another slinky something to make that man's eyes roll back in his head."

"Okay, okay, okay, just… be fast." Giddiness bubbles in her belly. They really don't have much time. Castle's picking her up as soon as he finishes at Black Pawn. "And don't go too overboard, please. I don't want to kill him," she adds, biting her lip to contain the devious grin she feels forming.

Lanie's chuckle lingers long after she's breezed out the front door.

Okay, she can do this. Finish packing the necessities and then wait for Lanie to return with whatever piece of lingerie she deems appropriate. Or inappropriate, as the case may be. Then Castle'll be here to pick her up and they'll be on their way.

She'll have to bring Stegner a thank you gift for switching weekend shifts with her on short notice. The other detective was more than happy to do it, something about getting out of seeing her boyfriend's parents while they're in town  _and_  getting the busier of the impending holiday season weekends off, but still. It's nice to have someone who was willing. The least she can do is bring her a cheesy souvenir.

Of course, the trade means she'll be working weekends for the next month after this one, but this trip is worth it.

She's almost completely packed when she realizes she should probably change her underwear. Who knows how far inside the front door they'll manage to get; it never hurts to be prepared with something lacy and push-up in the event they don't make it to the "freshening up" stage of their arrival. Yeah, that's a good plan.

She changes quickly, trying not to linger on the scar between her breasts as she adjusts the bra. It's a badge of honor according to her husband, along with the line on her side. Badge or not, it doesn't mean she wants every underwear purchase she makes for the rest of her life to hinge on whether it rubs or hides the mark. This set's right on the edge of her comfort level, but if she arranges everything carefully, maybe the first night of her honeymoon won't end with the scar tissue looking angry and unforgiving.

Her makeup and hair gets an upgrade once she determines yet again that her bag is more than packed for a three and a half day trip. She makes a valiant attempt at cleaning up the mess she's made of the bedroom next. If she had food in the fridge or dishes to do, they would be her next target, but spending most of the week at the loft means there's nothing to be done. She settles for surveying her apartment, mentally cataloging everything.

They might not be on a timeline for her to move out of here, hell they both  _like_  having a place to hide away (although maybe there's a better name for it than The Caskett Love Shack,  _Castle_ ) but she doesn't want to keep everything as it is. There are things she doesn't need to keep, no matter how much moves to the loft in the coming weeks and months.

Her eyes dart up when the door opens, and the instinctive urge to reach for her gun is replaced by relief when Lanie steps inside.

"Okay, don't yell at me, but I picked up three things because I couldn't decide. So go try these on and make sure I got the right sizes."

" _Three_ , Lanie?" The bag her friend is carrying looks like it's housing more than three pieces.

"You'll see. Here. Don't argue, just change. Your hubby'll be here soon."

She hates that word, but her traitorous heart still speeds up at the thought. He will be here soon.

"Do I get veto power?" She reaches for the bag, despite her trepidation.

Lanie arches an eyebrow "Do you think you'll need veto power? With my tastes?"

Well, she has a point there. "Okay, okay, you're right."

"Of course I am." Lanie shakes her head. "Open the bag, Kate."

Lanie's purchases end up spread on the bed piece by piece. It's an eclectic mix; silks and lace, form fitting and flowing, a floral pattern, a deep blue, and a light frosty pink she might normally pass by without a second thought. Somehow, it works for her now. It all works for her.

Now it's just a question of will they work  _on_  her.

"What do you think?"

"I think you spent too much," she murmurs, thumbing the sleeve of a lace-trimmed slip and its matching robe. The pink's so light it's nearly white, which is probably why Lanie chose it. "But it's beautiful. All of it."

"Uh huh, and I made sure not to get anything that would rub too much against your side."

"Thanks, Lane." The corset-like bustier Lanie picked has something resembling boning, but it's positioned so it's on either side of the scar, not against it, and there are loose ribbons that may or may not disguise the mark on her chest, too. Her friend thought of everything.

Her fingers drift to the other pieces. She might not have chosen the babydoll for herself – flowers aren't exactly her style – but the pattern works somehow. She can picture the heat of Castle's gaze as she steps out of the bathroom in it, and the way his fingers will trace the open lines of the top on his way down to the tiny scrap masquerading as a pair of panties.

Licking her lips, she nods quickly. "I'll just try these on in the bathroom. Back in a sec."

Her friend's laughter follows her as she scoops up the underthings and darts away. Lanie knows she made good choices.

She tries on the babydoll first, adjusting the straps before tying the ribbon between her breasts. The sides fall against her belly gently, lace trim tickling her skin. It's not an unpleasant feeling. She doesn't need to test the thong to know it'll fit, but she does anyway, wanting to see the whole picture.

She likes it. Castle will like it, too.

The slip and robe go on next. Whatever skepticism she had about the color is gone when she slides the robe over one shoulder. It's gorgeous. She feels soft, beautiful, like a bride. An actual bride. There's just something inherently delicate about it.

On the other hand, the corset – bustier – whatever it's called has powerful written all over it. When she finally gets it on and adjusted, gone is the demure bride in soft pink. In her place is the woman who used to tease Castle relentlessly, the one who knew instinctively which buttons to push to make his breath quicken.

Now she knows from experience what it takes to get him started. What it takes to make him shudder, make his pulse speed up and his breath come faster.

But it won't hurt to tap into the tease again.

_"Beckett, I'm home!"_

Already? Damn it, how long has she been in here?

"Are you packed and ready for our stunningly romantic getaw- you're not Beckett."

"You're a quick one, Castle. Kate's in the bathroom, finalizing her wardrobe."

Oh don't tell him that, Lanie. He'll just beg for a preview.

She throws the robe on over the bustier, opening her bathroom door a crack. As expected, her husband saunters over, neck already craning to see. "Hey, Castle, hey. I'll be out in a few minutes, okay? Just wait for me in the living room?"

"Sure." He smiles lopsidedly. "Can I take something for you?"

"Umm, my smaller bag? I need the bigger one." She returns his smile, twisting so he won't be able to see anything, despite the way his eyes search for the mirror.

"For your… wardrobe?" He tries again to see, far more obviously this time.

"Ah, ah, ah." Her hand covers his eyes, just to be safe. "No peeking, Castle," she singsongs, acutely aware that Lanie's able to hear every word they say.

Her lips find his chin quickly. "Kiss me hello and then get out of here."

He doesn't heed her words. Instead, he shifts his weight eagerly. "You know, if you need help in there, I'd be happy to-"

She pushes his face away, unable to keep the affection out of her voice when she interrupts him, "Missed your chance, Castle. Go on so we can get out of here sooner."

Her husband heaves his melodramatic, put upon sigh before smacking a kiss to her palm and turning away. "The little bag, you said?"

"The smaller one, neither's really little. And don't think you can be cute and sneak a peek at anything important; it's my toiletries and shoes."

Whatever he mutters must be amusing, because Lanie chuckles and shoos him out.

"You'll thank me later, Castle," her friend calls, making her grin. Oh he will thank them both for the secrecy. He definitely will.

Changing quickly, she ducks out of the bathroom to hear Castle humming in the next room. Lanie's sitting on her bed, looking amused, but she doesn't say a word.

"They're great, Lanie, they're perfect," she murmurs, slipping the lingerie into her bag underneath her ratty pair of lounge pants. "Everything fits, thank you."

"Good. And you like them?"

"Yeah I do, I really do. The pink was a good choice." Her arms slide around Lanie's shoulders impulsively. "Thank you for this. And for not thinking I'm insane."

Lanie laughs. "Oh I think you're insane, but I like the look on you. And now I'm going to get out of here and you are going to go on your first honeymoon and enjoy those presents."

She can't help but grin. "Okay, deal."

Lanie waves over her shoulder on her way out of her bedroom, and she hears her call a goodbye to her husband before the door shuts.

Castle meets her at the bedroom door, holding out a hand for her bag. It should be annoying how much of a gentleman he is, but she can't help but love it. He knows she can carry her own bag, and she'll probably carry his once or twice, too, but he just likes doing things for her. He likes being nice.

She likes when he's nice. Of course she likes when he's not nice, too.

"I got it, Castle," she hums, tugging him in by the belt loop. "How'd your meeting go?"

He presses a kiss to her cheek, then her mouth. "Fine. No surprises this time."

"Good." He'd come into the precinct after the last meeting, trying and failing to disguise his annoyance with his publisher. The fact that he's happy today makes her happy. "You ready to get out of here?"

His mouth finds hers again, taking her breath with his kiss. Her body sways into his; he was up and out of bed before her this morning and she missed him trying to make her late with the promise of the solid planes of his chest against her back.

"Mmm, thanks for making the coffee before you left."

"It was the least I could do, given that I was forced to deprive you of me," he says, slinging the smaller of her bags over his shoulder and hefting a reusable shopping bag onto his other arm. He must've raided the fridge for water while she was talking to Lanie.

"Oh you're so generous, Castle. How can I ever repay you?" she drawls checking her pockets for her phone and her keys.

A wiggle of her husband's eyebrows is his only response. Cute.

"Just have a relaxing ride to our home away from home for the weekend. That's repayment enough, Beckett."

"Oh yeah?" Her hand slides into his back pocket, palm settling on the curve of his ass. To his credit, Castle barely jumps. After almost a month of marriage, he must be getting used to her gropes. "That's a shame. I had something else in mind," she murmurs, kissing the curve of his jaw.

He swallows hard. "Well, I've always said you should follow your heart. And if my body is what your heart wants, then I respect your heart and we'll have to go with it."

Laughter bubbles from her lips. "You're right. Let's go."

She cops another feel anyway, because she can, before sauntering out of her apartment and leaving him to lock the door behind them.

It's a little disappointing that the weather's too uncooperative to bring the Ferrari, but Castle assures her there will be  _plenty_ of time for her to commandeer their sports car as he passes over a still-warm cup of her favorite coffee. Her cheeks heat up at the pronoun;  _their_  sports car.

"Well that's true," she hums at the first sip, relaxing into the leather. He's driving, leaving her free to settle back and shut her eyes. "Maybe next time."

His fingers trail down her arm, brushing the healing cut on her wrist before their hands connect. "Thank you, Kate."

One eye peeks open to find him watching the road once more. Everything about him looks peaceful, from his jaw to the way his shoulders are relaxed. He needed this, too. Especially after the last week.

"For what?" Their fingers slot together, the fit snug, but comforting.

He looks over when the traffic ahead slows. "Being here. Doing this."

The "with me" is unspoken, but obvious, and she shifts in her seat to kiss his chin. "We've earned a break, Castle. A weekend to just be us and not worry about work. No being shot at, no cases, no mysterious informants."

Castle's eyes flit to hers before moving back to the road. It's not the most delicate way she could approach it, but her secret is out there and it's time for his to be, too.

"How'd you know?" He licks his lips.

"Saw your board. Filled in the blanks with some of the things you said to me when I went back to work."

Her hand tightens around his. She could be furious with him for trying to keep it from her; she should be, actually, but the most she can muster is a warning,

"Don't you dare do this alone. I'm not losing you, too."

"I'm not, I'm not. Kate, I swear. I haven't touched it in months. I pulled up the file for the new book the other day and opened the other file to make sure everything was still there. Then you got home from work and I didn't close it. That's all."

"Okay."

"Okay," he echoes, obviously confused because she isn't breathing fire, ordering him to stop the car, or tossing her wedding ring in his face and telling him they're over.

Six months ago, all of the above probably would have happened – it  _did_  happen. That night in her apartment, it did happen. He'd tried to stop her, come to her with his reservations, and she'd thrown him out on his ass.

"Castle, after what happened in May… after getting  _shot_ , we both know I don't want this case hanging over our heads for the rest of our lives." She tugs his hand up, brushing her lips over knuckles that once beat the hell out of a man to protect her. "But I want us to  _have_  the rest of our lives. I love you, and I want the rest of our lives. So no more clandestine shit. No more going behind my back because you love me and you think I need to be shielded."

The light might be green, but the sea of taillights in front of them says she can get his eyes to meet hers for a moment. Her seatbelt stretches with her movement across the console, but she doesn't let it tug her back. Their joined hands stay pressed against her belly even as she turns his face to hers.

"No more secrets, Rick. You've seen mine, I've seen yours. We're okay."

He nods solemnly, kissing her thumb. "I should've told you before you had to find out that way."

"Yeah you should've, but I should've told you before you had to find out the way you did, too. So I think we're just about even."

"I just wanted to keep you safe."

"I know, Castle. And you did, you are. You made me realize I needed to get help, twice. So now we're gonna keep each other safe. We're gonna keep Alexis and your mom safe. Keep our kids – as far into the future as they might be – safe, too."

Her mouth slides over his comfortingly. "I don't want to be your widow, Castle, and I don't want you to be my widower. You hear me?"

His hand leaves the steering wheel to cup her face. "I hear you. Loud and clear."

"Good. Now we're on our honeymoon. I'm going to sit back, and drink my coffee, and I want to hear what happened at your meetings today."

He smiles finally. "You gonna let me tell you I love you, too? Or is that not part of the plan?"

"Oh no, carry on." She keeps his hand even as she draws her legs into her seat with her, letting her shoes drop onto the floor mat.

"I love you, Kate. Even if you are trying to kill me by casually mentioning our kids during a serious discussion."

"Don't get ahead of yourself, buddy.  _Future_  kids. Future. As in way off."

He grins, jostling her hand. "Sure, Kate. How many are we talking here?"

"None if you keep teasing me. In fact you can kiss all kinds of things goodbye if you don't stop."

Now his infuriating little smirk is back. "No I can't. 'Cause you can't resist me either."

"Keep telling yourself that, Castle."

He scoffs, reaching for his own coffee with the hand on the wheel. "Don't be coy, Beckett. You can't go more than a couple hours without me."

Her chin lifts. "Oh you think so?"

"Need I remind you who copped a feel from whom back at home?" He glances over, lifting an eyebrow obstinately.

"Yeah, because you were totally not trying to look while I was in the bathroom trying on lingerie."

"Are you suggesting a wager then? Which one of us can keep their hands off the other longer?"

It's tempting, the call of a competition, but it's one she'll have to back down from this time. Not because she'll lose – no, she  _knows_  she can win that bet – but because it's their  _honeymoon_.

Glancing around to make sure the other commuters are mostly occupied, her free hand drifts up to open the top two buttons of her shirt. Just enough to give her husband a peek at the purple lace she'd changed into earlier.

His breath hitches, fingers twitching in her grasp. He wants to touch already. Good. So does she.

"Mhmm, pass," she purrs, lifting his hand to brush his knuckles against her open collar. "I have plans for your hands on my honeymoon."


	9. Chapter 9

**Where we left off:**

_"_ _Are you suggesting a wager then? Which one of us can keep their hands off the other longer?"_

_It's tempting, the call of a competition, but it's one she'll have to back down from this time. Not because she'll lose – no, she knows she can win that bet – but because it's their honeymoon._

_Glancing around to make sure the other commuters are mostly occupied, her free hand drifts up to open the top two buttons of her shirt. Just enough to give her husband a peek at the purple lace she'd changed into earlier._

_His breath hitches, fingers twitching in her grasp. He wants to touch already. Good. So does she._

_"_ _Mhmm, pass," she purrs, lifting his hand to brush his knuckles against her open collar. "I have plans for your hands on my honeymoon."_

* * *

It's tough to tell from upside down, but she's pretty sure her panties are hanging from the doorknob.

Normally she'd be embarrassed, if it weren't for the fact that she's celebrating their presence of mind to close the door in general. Castle must have kicked it shut as they stumbled inside, mouths fused, hands already shedding layers of unnecessary clothing. In fact, her shirt might actually be outside on the porch. Oops.

Oh well, she'll get it later. Right now she has no intention of unwrapping her legs from around Castle's waist or dislodging his cheek from its resting point on her chest. She can feel the beginnings of rug burn on her back from the entryway carpet, but it's a cross she'll have to bear, because that was  _good_.

Her mouth lands in her husband's sweaty hair as her hand strokes over the broad line of his back. He's still panting a little, his weight pressing her hips into the floor.

"You okay, Castle? Did I break you?"

His laughter puffs across her chest and one of those delightfully talented fingers of his draws her bra the rest of the way down her arm. She only managed to get it half off before his mouth and his hands distracted her earlier.

"I assure you, Kate, I'm more than fine." A slow, teasing circle on her flesh accompanies his words, raising goose bumps along her arms. "Although this isn't quite the tour I was expecting to give you when we got here."

Laughing softly, she pushes a few strands of her hair off his cheek. "Think of it as an in-depth introduction to the foyer."

"I like that." He grins, tongue darting out to taste her skin. "So as you know, this is the foyer," he hums.

"Uh huh." She arches into him, hand clenching around his shoulder. Now he's not playing fair. "It's s-spacious."

"And to your right is the way to the kitchen, where I intend to make you the most delicious dinner you have ever experienced. You'll be hungry for it, trust me."

His teeth graze gently, drawing a gasp from her lips.

"Cas-"

"And to your left is the way to our bedroom," he rumbles, dipping his head and kissing lower still.

Her legs loosen around him as he moves down her body. He's on a mission, that much is obvious.

"We'll make our way there soon enough, don't worry. Also, for future reference, all other bedrooms are upstairs."

She arches into him, barely recognizing the sound that comes out of her mouth. His fingers are nimble, his mouth smooth. Forget about her killing or breaking him, he's going to kill her instead.

"And behind me," he pauses, his fingers drawing an arrow on her thigh in the opposite direction of her real interest, "is the way to the pool. And I have been assured the heater is working  _just_ fine, so we only have to worry about the commute to and from."

Her fingers clench in his hair. How can he even think at this point?

His mouth slides over her knee, lips dancing up the inside of her thigh, drawing a keening, needy noise from her throat. "And thus concludes the Twenty-Five Cent Beckett-Castle Hamptons House Tour. Enjoy your stay."

"I will if you move a little higher," she pants, urging him closer.

"Yeah?" He shimmies up, mouth gliding against her belly. "Here?"

That ass.

Swearing just makes him laugh. "Maybe here?" he offers innocently, shifting down slightly.

He's closer now, tongue laving the jut of her hipbone in tiny circles.

"I hate you," she says, most of the venom lost in a groan.

"Mmm, no you don't," he singsongs, his breath caressing exactly where she wants him. Her hips jerk, one knee falling open to welcome him closer. Thankfully he accepts the invitation this time.

 _Fuck_. No, no she does not hate him. Not even close.

* * *

He gives her a real tour later, once they've showered and she's commandeered a pair of his worn, flannel sleep pants and a hoodie. It's not the honeymoon attire she could be wearing, but he doesn't look disappointed once.

No, he just looks happy. Content. They walk through the house together, shoulders bumping comfortably. He tells her about buying the house and the process of redecorating whenever the urge hit, only wincing a little bit when she asks if the decorator was the same one he'd bragged about sleeping with back when they first met. It doesn't matter to her that it is; it's honestly just nice to connect the dots on the pieces of him she knows.

"Relax, lover," she murmurs, stepping into him. Her lips brush his, halting what might have been an apology for bringing it up at all. "It was a long time ago. If you'd slept with her last week, it'd be a different story, because I'd be killing you and burying your body here in the backyard." She gestures around, closing the patio door behind them. They're getting sidetracked on their way to check out the pool, but that's okay, too.

Castle laughs at that, cupping her shoulder in one of his large hands.

"Anyway, my point is if you want to change anything, we can do it. No questions asked, no expense shall be spared. At home, too. And that's not a nag about moving. It's a promise that both places are yours, too."

He kisses her forehead quickly before stealing a sip from her nearly empty wine glass.

"Well, I like it so far, but I could see a few of my bigger things fitting better here than at home, too," she starts, wanting him to know she's thinking about it and she's getting there. "But there is… one thing at home. And it doesn't have to be taken care of immediately, but um… Boba?"

"Boba?"

She inhales, trying to think of a way to say it delicately, to keep from making Castle feel bad about it when she knows he will. "He sets my teeth on edge. I walk into the bathroom in the dark and it makes me," she trails off, fluttering her hand in front of her chest. "And it's okay on good nights. It is," she cuts him off before he can apologize. "But can we… maybe move him, please? Preferably somewhere I don't see when I should be asleep?"

His head bobs rapidly. "I didn't even think – I'm so sorry, Kate. I'll call Alexis when we get back to my phone. He'll be somewhere else before we even get home."

"Hey, hey, it's not your fault." She rubs his side soothingly. "I didn't think it was related at first; I thought it was being in a new place. And yeah, maybe it's a little weird to have Boba Fett in your bathroom, but you're a little weird and I like you still," she jokes, trying to make the guilt recede from his eyes. "But if I get one stereotypical, bachelor pad ruining request, that's it. Boba's gotta go. And maybe just give me a warning if you have any storm troopers guarding the toilets here, too."

Her husband laughs tightly, pulling her closer. Oh that's nice. It's breezy outside and her wet hair causes everything to feel chillier; he makes an excellent wind screen.

"No, just Boba and he'll be gone soon."

"Thank you." Her lips land on his chin. "I'll make it up to you."

Castle shakes his head. "No, no you won't. I'll make it up to you for giving you panic attacks in the middle of the night."

"You didn't. Burke and I just talked about… what brings them on, and Boba just happens to kind of be one of them."

She plucks at his shirt, kissing him firmly. "Now come on, show me the pool. Then I want you to take me inside, feed me, and tell me more about this place."

Oh he tells her, alright. He offers her serious stories about vacations when Alexis was little and having to provide excuse after excuse for why his ex-wife wouldn't be able to spare a day or two for her daughter, despite her promises to come. He tells her about sitting in the grass and watching the water and the sky until the sun would set. He also tells her how peaceful it can be on trips like this one, when the summer rush is over and they can just bask in being home.

He offers her silly stories, too; water balloon fights with his daughter and being scared right into the pool after a nap by said daughter. He even  _finally_  lets her in on the inside joke of his attempt to deep fry a turkey and only offering, "Thanksgiving in July could totally be a thing, Beckett," as justification for his odd idea.

The silly stories make her laugh deep, fully belly laughs. For a moment, she sees awe flash across his face. Her delight does that to him. Her happiness makes him that happy.

She perches on the counter beside him while he works, feeding him tiny bites of cheese as she cuts it. He's warned her that they'll need most of it for dinner, but she's hungry now and he doesn't seem to have a problem taking the pieces when her fingers deliver them directly to his mouth.

Instead he just grins, chewing her offering before continuing with his latest story. He looks good like this, talking animatedly as he putters around the kitchen barefoot. So good, in fact, she can't help but wind her arms around his neck and pull him into a slow kiss when he passes her.

"Mhmm, what was that for?" If he smiles any wider, his face will split.

"Nothing, just wanted to." Her shoulder lifts in time with her lips. It's true, even if the admission makes her cheeks flush a little. She never says that; she's never had a reason  _to_  say that. She just wanted to have him close for a moment, to enjoy the fact that it's allowed and they've made it this far.

"Oh. Well in that case, carry on. Whatever makes you happy."

That's easy;  _he_  does. So she kisses him again. And again. And once more for good measure.

* * *

It's ungodly early the next morning when the shutter of his phone camera sounds. It isn't what wakes her, but it's what keeps her from drifting off again. She might be tired, exhausted from the week and their activities, but she just knows he's not taking pictures of a sunrise or the way the ocean looks as the fog starts to lift.

"Mmm, why're you takin' pictures of me, Castle?" She tries to clear the sleep from her eyes, only to shove her arm back under the covers when the cold air hits it. "S'cold. Come back to bed."

He snaps another picture. "I would, but baby, you stole every inch of the covers and took over my side of the bed in the minute and a half I was in the bathroom."

She grumbles, pulling said covers higher. Her nose is cold, too. "Don't call me baby."

"Let me join you in your blanket cocoon and I'll consider it."

He sounds far too awake for it to be this early, but maybe that's what happens when it's this cold outside of the covers. Like a cold shower only without the water.

"Mmm." Her eyes slip shut again only to hear him take another picture.

His laughter at her gesture of appreciation (followed by another picture) makes her sigh. "Fiiiine. But oh, turn on the fire first?" One eye peeks open to offer him a lopsided, hopeful look. "S'too cold in here."

"Yeah, tell me about it," he mutters, dropping his phone onto the bed as he leans over, planting a kiss in the center of her forehead. "So lucky I love you, Beckett."

Her body and her brain may be tired, but her heart still hammers to hear him say that.

"Mhmm, I am."

She's also lucky he doesn't notice her fingers scrambling out to steal his phone. Two can play this game. She'll just send any good pictures to herself. Like the one she's about to get of his bare back and his boxer-clad ass as he starts the fire for her.

"Now who's taking pictures, wife?" He doesn't even look back when he says it.

Her tongue pokes out. "Couldn't help myself. There's a half-naked man in my room making fire for me. S'very sexy."

Castle's chest puffs out with pride as the fireplace comes to life, bathing their room in a soft orange glow. "Is it?"

She snaps a picture of that, lifting her chin from the covers to grin. She's awake now, mostly, she might as well have some fun. "Uh huh. Good job, husband. Come back to bed now."

Telling him twice would be pointless, because he's already bounding over and diving into the tiny space in the covers she creates for him.

"Jeez! You're freezing, Castle."

"Sorry, sorry. I need to check the vents or something. It is  _not_  supposed to be this cold in here."

Her palm slides over his sternum, pressing gently. "Making me fires and doing handyman work. A girl could get used to this."

It's hard not to shiver when his frigid hand slides around her waist, but she manages. She'll just have to warm him up.

But first, she wants a picture. It ends up off center, getting only half of his face in her endeavor to make sure his sleep-crazy hair and a glimpse of his bare shoulder is captured, but she kind of loves it. That one she's sending to herself.

She gets another good one when he comes in for a kiss; his sleepy pucker is beyond adorable, but he still tickles her. The blanket nest makes it tough to squirm out of his grasp, so she settles for presenting him the phone as a peace offering.

"Too early for tickles." It's firm and it makes him grin.

"No more tickles, Kate," he agrees, leaning in to kiss her cheek. It's not even a surprise when his camera clicks.

"You like that one?" she breathes, pressing against him. Now he's warming up. Even his legs, which is good, because he's happily slid his knee between hers already.

"Uh huh."

Her hand curls around his, moving the camera into position to capture the press of her lips against his cold nose. Together they take another one as her mouth slides over his.

"Like those, too?"

"Uh huh," he repeats, touching her chin. "One more. Shut your eyes."

"Mhmm, better not be of my boobs." Her eyes slide shut anyway, feeling the pull of sleep returning now that he's back and they're both warm again.

"Your faith in me is astounding, Kate."

She chuckles, getting comfortable and allowing him to do whatever it is he's doing. "M'just saying we need a different camera for that. One not connected to your twitter account."

Her fingers drift down his chest absently as the camera clicks a few more times.

"Oh, that's smart."

Her lips twist against her pillow. "I try. So what're we doing today?" It's her last ditch effort to stay awake.

After a second, Castle twists away – to put his phone on the nightstand, she thinks. When he returns, he wraps her up and pulls her against his chest. Well, staying awake or not, this is more than good. Even though he is kind of pulling her hair right now.

"We're going back to sleep, for one, and then after that we can decide."

"Mmm, good plan." Maybe if she just squirms a little, it'll tug her hair free.

Thankfully, his arm moves for her, curling around her waist instead. "You're married to a genius, Beckett. Just get used to it."

"Sure Cassle. Don'letthehouseburndown."

She feels his lips ghost against her temple. "Auto-shut off'll take care of it. Genius, remember?"

"Myhero."

She can't be certain, but she's fairly sure she orders him to wake her next time with either sex or coffee – both preferably – as she drifts off.

* * *

True to Castle's honeymoon promise, they only emerge from the house a few times. Not that she's complaining. She's never felt so refreshed and relaxed (not to mention sore in such a fantastic way). Plus, when they do get out, it is nice surprising him with something other than lingerie. Even an act as simple as holding his arm while they wander the beach after dinner seems to do the trick.

He looks amazed when she leans over to pick up the first few shells.

"What? I like to collect things. It helps me remember the trip in a meaningful way. And it's better than cluttering up the loft with a cheesy, completely overpriced stamped shell that was made in China or something."

Their forehead bump gently as he steals a kiss. "I love it, Kate. That's all." He turns his hand up, opening his palm to her. "Here, let me hold them while you look for more. Grab a ton."

The chill in the air makes her cheeks pull a bit, but it doesn't stop her from grinning wider. She brushes a probably sandy hand against his cheek, nodding.

"Kay, I'll grab a bunch and then we can pick out the best ones to keep when we get home. And oh, we should open one of the bottles of wine we got today, but let's save the other one for when we get back to the city."

His tender, happy look is back. It sends heat to her face and makes her want to look away, but she won't do that. She'll let him see how much his happiness means to her.

"Perfect. That sounds perfect," he murmurs.

She chooses shells until their arms are overflowing and they're forced to use her husband's shirt as a makeshift bucket. He takes it in stride, ignoring the sand and the salt water that's dirtying what she's sure isn't a cheap piece of cotton, and it actually makes her heart stutter for him a little harder.

When they get back to the house, they dump the shells on a patio table. She waits to sit until Castle's completed his run inside for wine glasses and a blanket, beckoning him to share the Adirondack chair with her.

For the next hour, their hands bump as they poke through the shells together, weeding out the ones neither of them like. His head rests on her shoulder the entire time, letting her feel the rumble of his chest with each ridiculous story he makes up about the shells and their origins. Yes, half of them  _do_  come from the backs of sea monsters, according to him.

"You should write that down," she murmurs, leaning against him during a quiet moment.

"Hmm?"

She takes the wine glass from his hand, savoring the subtle sweetness on her tongue as she sips. Apparently there wasn't much point to bringing two glasses; they've been sharing the entire time.

"Your sea monster story. You should write it down."

His lips brush her cheek. "You think so? I'm not sure my publisher would go for a change of genre this late in the game."

"You broke into graphic novels," she points out, fiddling with a string hanging from the blanket. "You could get into slightly disturbing children's books, I'm sure."

"Because it's so me, huh?" he drawls, blowing a raspberry against the spot his lips recently caressed.

She giggles into his arm. "No, because you're good at having the right words." Her fingers curl against her knee. "At least for me, you are."

His arm holds her tighter, recognizing the seriousness of her words. "I'm glad, Kate."

Their heads knock gently when he steals his wine back, but she doesn't complain.

She's not even sure what makes her break the silence a few minutes later. Maybe it's the wine, maybe it's the comfort, maybe it's the image of him showing their shells and telling the sea monster story to a toddler with his curious, eager eyes. Whatever it is, it makes her ask, "How many do you want? How many more, I mean."

"Glasses of wine?" He's confused by the question. She doesn't have to look back at him to know it.

"Kids. If you… I mean obviously if you don't want  _any_  more, that's fine. I'd be happy either way, really. But I thought you might –"

"More than one, less than a baseball team," he interrupts her ridiculous rambles. "That's… being an only kid was lonely – at least for me – and even though they'll have Alexis… it's such a big age difference. So more than one. But if one's all you want, then one's perfect for me and it'll be fine, obviously. We're both fine and we were both only children."

Her hand slides underneath his, fingers twining quickly. "Why don't we say more than one, less than quintuplets, okay?"

"Deal. Anyway, there's not enough room in the loft for all six kids, plus us, plus my mother."

"That's true. So… good. It's a deal. For the future," she adds quickly, before he thinks she's tossing her birth control tomorrow.

Castle grins. "For the future."

"Uh huh."

"Well, you know," he hums, tracing her knuckle slowly. "We might need to do some preparation… for the future."

Her lips twitch. "I think you're right. What do you suggest?"

"That you hang on."

It's all the warning she gets before he scoops her up and carries her inside.

* * *

_A/N: The picture scene in this chapter was inspired by this photo:_


	10. Chapter 10

**Where we left off:**

_Castle grins. "For the future."_

_"Uh huh."_

_"Well, you know," he hums, tracing her knuckle slowly. "We might need to do some preparation… for the future."_

_Her lips twitch. "I think you're right. What do you suggest?"_

_"That you hang on."_

_It's all the warning she gets before he scoops her up and carries her inside._

* * *

Well, suffice to say, the honeymoon is over.

They've been back to work for all of three days and already the haze of their time away has worn off and he's driving her crazy, they're driving each other crazy. Of course that could be the hunger and the after effects of whatever they were drugged with talking. In fact, it probably is. If she stops to actually think about it, he's not doing anything vastly different than he usually does but she's still taking his head off.

Yes, he's also a little snarkier than normal, though she has a feeling it's more of a response to her than his own annoyance. They'd both been fine when they thought they were waking up at home as always, but their moods have only deteriorated as they continue to realize there is nothing normal about this situation.

Okay, so nobody's being fair here. They're both frustrated and more than a little freaked out to be  _handcuffed_  together in the middle of this ridiculously weird case. They need to relax and think. Let their natural rhythm take over instead of trying to go in opposite directions. Opposite directions never work for them anyway; they're so much better as a team. Usually.

Who would've thought they'd have more trouble being chained to each other _after_  getting married than they might've had before?

"Castle, stop. Just stop for a second, okay?" Her arm's going numb as she waits for him to admit the other eighty-five tries on the lock were enough. She doesn't have a watch, but it feels like he's been at this for hours.

He huffs, but he does halt, taking her hand in his to massage feeling back into her fingers. It's a sweet gesture, especially given how she can't seem to stop snapping at him. If it were the other way around, she'd probably want to strangle him for being a jackass instead of helping ease his hand cramps.

"I'm sorry about taking your head off," she murmurs, dipping her head to watch his fingers move over hers.

"Which time?"

He doesn't mean anything by it, not really, but it still makes her wince. She has barked at him more than a few times since waking up.

"Every time? It's not your fault. You didn't lock us up down here. I'm sorry."

Castle exhales, curling his fingers around hers. "No I didn't. Believe me, sweetheart, a creepy basement is  _not_  where I want us to be handcuffed together."

Her eyebrows lift. "Oh yeah? And where might you like for us to be handcuffed to one another,  _babe_?"

They're sitting close enough for her to feel the shiver of delight that rolls through his body. He likes 'babe,' huh? It shouldn't surprise her; he's eaten up every name, every term of endearment, every ounce of affection she's given him since they got married.

"Home, your place, the Hamptons – definitely want to be back in the Hamptons – maybe that interrogation room you tossed me into the first time you brought me down to the station, at your desk, Gates's desk…"

She swats him for that.

"Ow! You asked, Beckett."

"We are  _not_  going to have sex on my boss's desk while handcuffed together."

"Are we going to have sex on her desk without the handcuffs? Because the way you said that, kind of makes me think you're considering it."

She takes her hand back – well, she tries to, anyway – rolling her eyes at him. "In your dreams. Go back to your lock picking, Castle."

"I got you, didn't I? Says something about what becomes of my dreams."

It's… so, so cheesy, but damn if it isn't absurdly sweet, too. Her forehead lands against his shoulder, lips brushing his arm.

"Yeah, yeah you got me. But you're not getting me on her desk. Gonna just have to accept that one."

His lips press into her hair as he goes back to attempt lock-cracking number eighty-six.

"We'll see."

—

Hours later – too many hours later – after eventually getting that lock open and having everything get much, much worse, they're finally out of that dungeon. Any other time and she might be interested in seeing the tiger they inadvertently freed, but after nearly becoming said cat's dinner, she'll just have to pass. She'll stick with the National Geographic Channel for a while.

Although from the looks the boys are giving her, they're never going to live this one down; at least not for the next week or two. One or both of her partners will have  _some_  form of tiger memorabilia on her desk before the week's out, she's sure.

But Gates is a different story. There's no teasing on her face. In fact, she has something on her mind, beyond implementing a precinct-wide call in policy, but so far she hasn't tipped her hand.

"Detective Beckett, I believe these are yours?"

Her cheeks color as the captain passes over a box with their possessions. Her badge, her gun, both of their watches and wallets, and oh –

Their wedding bands.

Their  _matching_  wedding bands.

Neutral is what she aims for, but she's more than sure she doesn't achieve it. When she'd first come to, she'd hoped their captors had only stripped Castle of his ring, leaving the necklace with both of her rings under her turtleneck, but of course she hadn't been that lucky. Ultimately, though, she's just happy they didn't decide to pocket and sell the rings to fund their escape.

"Thank you, sir."

Castle digs into the box as he and Ryan give each other hell, oblivious to the fact that they've probably just been made. His fingers falter only slightly when they encounter their rings, but he scoops up the entire bundle without comment, deftly slipping his wedding ring onto the open chain and into his pocket.

She gives him a tiny nod in thanks, cutting her eyes to Gates to see if her boss caught it. The older woman's looking back at her already, one eyebrow higher than the other. Damn.

"My office when we get back to the precinct, Detective."

Her chest tightens. Gates's tone gives nothing away, but logically she knows there are only so many outcomes this conversation can have. If it were Roy, it'd be about four seconds of seriousness before he'd brandish a bottle of champagne he'd retrieved from cold storage. But it isn't. It's not Montgomery, it's Gates, and her opinion of Castle and this partnership is well known.

"Yes, sir," she agrees, clipping her badge to her pants and securing her gun. Esposito waves them on.

"Come on, Beckett, we'll give you a lift. Had your unit towed back to the station after we found it."

"Thanks."

It's a strange ride back, reminiscent of some of the more awkward TV family vacations she's seen. Gates rides shotgun while Ryan drives, and somehow she's ended up stuck in the middle between Espo and her husband. The guys try to keep things light, occasionally shaking their heads and bemoaning their ability to get into trouble, but for the most part, no one speaks. Castle's lack of chatter is honestly the oddest part.

If only she could go home, sink into a hot bath, and have her extremely sexy husband read her book to her. Instead, she gets to go back to the precinct, debrief with some DEA agent, and probably end up being read the riot act over getting married and failing to disclose it to HR. She can only hope knowing the mayor will just call the commissioner and get Castle back in will keep Gates from bothering to separate them.

Part of her wants to put her ring on before going into that meeting to show Gates she's not ashamed of it, of being married to Castle. Another part of her doesn't want to rock the boat any more than it's already being rocked. Flaunting her insubordination won't go over well. If it's even insubordination; it isn't like Gates forbade her to get married or to have a relationship with a department consultant, after all. Plus, technically Castle isn't  _actually_  a consultant. He doesn't get paid for the work he does, which means the regulations are even grayer than normal.

Screw it. She wants her ring.

It's dark enough in the backseat that she's able to tap Castle's hand and circle his ring finger in request without being caught. It's an odd move, but one she finds herself absently making at other times, though usually she's tracing his ring. By now he knows what it means, mostly. He squirms a little, but a second later, he's presenting the chain to her.

If they could talk without being overheard, this would be much easier. Instead she pantomimes sliding the ring on, tapping his finger and then her own. It's a vaguely obscene looking gesture and he looks scandalized at first – teenage boy that he is – before mouthing to ask if she's sure. She nods, lifting a shoulder quickly. Her lips land against his ear, closer than they need to be but forced there by a sharp turn from their driver. Thanks for that, Kevin.

"She already saw them, Castle. Might as well 'fess up. It's not a dirty little secret. Dirty, maybe. Not little."

She has to hope it really is dark enough to conceal the flick of her tongue along his ear. It won't help their case if Gates sees, but it feels good.

"Now, my ring, please."

It's surprisingly not a long meeting with their DEA contact. They go through their side of the investigation, including their time locked up, before he explains exactly what the hell was going on, but it wraps up far quicker than she would've expected under the circumstances. Really that could be a good thing or a bad thing, depending how awful Gates wants to be in the next few minutes. When Martinez excuses himself – ignoring her husband's petulant mutterings about 'having a taste in his mouth' – that means it's time to face the music.

Thankfully Castle doesn't argue when he's asked to step out. The last thing she needs right now is his noble, but misguided attempts to defend her against Iron Gates.

She keeps her chin high, hands crossed over one another in front of her. Her ring is clearly visible this way, and she makes no move to conceal it. Gates studies her quietly for a moment or two, glancing out to her desk to where Castle's no doubt fidgeting as he waits before training her gaze back on her.

"How long?"

"Excuse me, sir?"

"How long, Detective," Gates taps her own wedding ring for emphasis, "has _this_  been going on?"

"Oh, a… month or so, sir. November, early November. November 11, actually," She licks her lips, wondering if Gates will realize they were actually working a case at the time. Well, not at that very minute, but there  _was_  an investigation occurring concurrently. "It was spur of the moment, but we're happy. And I don't think you can say our work has suffered since then."

"I think it's best if I be the judge of that. You consider Mr. Castle your partner, do you not?"

"Yes, sir."

"And is there a reason I'm supposed to consider you and your… partner exempt from NYPD regulations?"

She licks her lips quickly. "I don't think we're exempt, but I think you could say the circumstances are different for Castle and my team."

"Having money to throw around doesn't make the circumstances different, Detective."

"No, sir. It doesn't. I just meant Castle's consultant position is different from a typical one. He's not being paid for his services, which means that the arrangement doesn't strictly fall under the regulations. Which makes a personal relationship more of a gray area than being outside the regs, wouldn't you think?"

So maybe she'd looked closer at the regs after getting married and after Henry helped her determine what pieces of information she could change without informing everyone. It's not a slam dunk – if Gates wants to treat Castle like any other cop then her argument is for nothing – but maybe it helps. She steals a look to her desk. Castle's watching her intently, hope written in his eyes. Neither of them want him to go anywhere.

"Uh huh. Well, given the  _circumstances_ , and the company Mr. Castle keeps when he's not camping out in my precinct with you, I'm not sure there's much I can do at this point. Is there?"

Well that's… unexpected. There's plenty Gates could do, but she's apparently choosing not to. The same way Roy chose not to years ago. That means Castle stays.

"I'm… sure you're making the right decision, sir."

Gates snorts. It's an indelicate thing that actually makes her like the woman a little more. "That makes one of us, Detective. But just know that if he even attempts one of his little stunts, he's out. Friends in high places or no, your husband or no, he will be gone."

She nods carefully. "Understood, sir."

"And I expect you to file the proper paperwork with HR. I won't have a nightmare raining down on my head if your secret husband gets you or himself into more trouble and I have to clean it up. Keep it professional while you're within these walls and on duty, Detective."

Another nod is all she can manage. "Understood."

"I hope it is," Gates hums, waving her off. "You're dismissed."

"Thank you, sir."

She makes a beeline for the door, ready to get back to Castle before Gates changes her mind.

"And Kate?"

"Yes?"

"Congratulations."

She smiles, fiddling with her ring as relief floods her. Everyone knows now. Officially. "Thank you, sir. That means a lot to us both."

Gates nods. "Marriage is a wonderful, often trying experience."

Chuckling softly, she meets Castle's eyes from the doorway. "Yes, sir. Yes it is. But I haven't shot him in almost four years, so I think I'm doing pretty well. Kinda… gives me a leg up."

That makes Gates chuckle, too. The elation running through her blood could be making her think crazy things, but the new captain's not so bad, not really. "You're off duty, Kate. Go home, both of you. But do the paperwork first thing tomorrow."

"I will. Thank you."

Castle's on his feet before she even makes it to her desk, eyes darting between her and the captain's open doorway. She won't tease him, won't make him think things are more dire than they are. Instead, she slides her arm through his, stepping into him and resting her chin on his shoulder. She's off duty, after all. She can hug her husband briefly.

"Come on, Castle, let's go home."

His fingers fumble over her arm, like he's not sure he's allowed to actually touch. Rubbing his side seems to soothe his confused agitation a little.

"You brought your bike today," he reminds her like it's going to change her decision to leave with him.

"Mmm, I did, but I'll leave it here. We can share a cab and stop for takeout on the way home."

Hopefully  _his_  helmet should be here soon, and then the next time she takes the bike to work, they can ride in together. The other gear she bought is already waiting for him in a not-so-stealthily hidden box in their closet. It's almost an entire ensemble; jacket, pants –  _mhmm_ , the pants – gloves, even boots (which are the size of small boats), but it needs the helmet to be complete. If only his head weren't so big, it wouldn't have been a special order to get the perfect one in his size.

Then again, maybe it does make sense to give it all to him for Christmas. It's only a couple weeks away.

Shit, Christmas is only a couple weeks away. Less than that actually. It's a can of worms she doesn't know if she can open just yet and it's approaching far more quickly than she expected.

Maybe it's because Thanksgiving was so rushed. Despite their best efforts to have a sit down meal for the five of them, she'd gotten a call in the middle of their snacks and ended up eating leftovers long after her dad had gone home and Martha and Alexis were both in bed. For his part, Castle had seemed content to sit beside her, happily shoveling yet another slice of pumpkin pie into his mouth. The holiday itself had barely registered for her. But Christmas… Christmas is different.

"Are you sure?" He lifts an eyebrow.

Shaking off the weirdness of that revelation is easier said than done, but she tries. For him, she tries. "Yeah, I'll ride it home tomorrow since I have my appointment with Burke."

He smiles softly, thumbing her arm in acknowledgment. "In that case, come on, Beckett. I'll buy you dinner to celebrate surviving being hitched to me for most of the day."

Her tongue pokes between her teeth cheekily as he helps her into her coat. "And was last weekend my reward for being hitched for you for the month?"

Castle chuckles. His thick fingers caress the back of her neck deliberately as he clears her hair from under her collar. She knows he can feel her breath stutter at the motion.

"Oh no, last weekend was my  _thank you_  for being hitched to me for the month," he hums, looking around the precinct like he's absolutely sure he shouldn't be saying it.

She has to try very hard not to squirm at the reminder of his  _gratitude_. Instead, she uses the nervous energy to check her pockets for everything she'll need for the night. She's leaving her gloves in her bike helmet for tomorrow, but she's sure if she needs to keep her hands warm, her husband won't mind lending his pockets or his body heat.

"Uh huh. Come on, let's go. I'll tell you what happened in there on the way home." She tugs on his coat pocket gently, giving her hips a little bit of sway as she moves ahead. "And maybe  _my_ next show of gratitude will be kind of like today, only without the tiger."

He doesn't even try to contain the glee as he follows her to the elevator.

* * *

_A/N: Fun fact - I was looking at screencaps from Heartbreak Hotel earlier to see if I could find a date stamp to use and I realized the computer said 11/11/11 - which would put Castle and Beckett's wedding date only a day different than their show wedding date, assuming canon has caught up to real time. I thought that was pretty cool._


	11. Chapter 11

**Where we left off:**

_She has to try very hard not to squirm at the reminder of his gratitude. Instead, she uses the nervous energy to check her pockets for everything she'll need for the night. She's leaving her gloves in her bike helmet for tomorrow, but she's sure if she needs to keep her hands warm, her husband won't mind lending his pockets or his body heat._

_"Uh huh. Come on, let's go. I'll tell you what happened in there on the way home." She tugs on his coat pocket gently, giving her hips a little bit of sway as she moves ahead. "And maybe my next show of gratitude will be kind of like today, only without the tiger."_

_He doesn't even try to contain the glee as he follows her to the elevator._

* * *

She tries so hard to stop it, but the first box he brings out sends her mood plummeting. Even though she's honestly surprised it took him this long to start decorating, she'd been hoping for just a little longer to prepare herself – and maybe him, too – for the season.

Christmas is something she doesn't really do and she hasn't in a long time. Yes, she smiles at the joy small children radiate, and she gives whatever she can to the bell ringers, but even those things don't leave much for herself. The most holiday cheer she musters usually is a scented candle and a nodded "You, too," when people wish her well. And oh, the Christmas tree ornament Castle gave her last year as a gag gift.  _"A tree for your tree, Beckett. It's tree-ception,"_  he'd said.

Her husband, on the other hand, is a self-professed Christmas maniac. The entire ride home from work, he'd talked about which decorations they should use this year (apparently he rotates between three sets and color schemes to keep things exciting), whether it was too late to get everything like usual, even what they should have for dinner on Christmas Eve. She'd mostly focused on the road, ignoring the knot in her stomach, and murmuring a response when it seemed like her input was wanted.

She usually works Christmas Eve, she has since it was mandatory. Yeah, it's lonely sometimes, but it helps. It makes her feel like she's doing something, helping someone have a happier Christmas than she usually does. It's her tradition, the same way Castle's three styles of decorations are his.

It doesn't mean she doesn't want Christmas with her husband this year, though. It just makes things… complicated. It means explaining, planning, negotiating – which is a lot scarier to think about considering she's not just asking him to compromise on his traditions, but his mother and daughter's as well.

"Okay, what's wrong?" Maybe it's just her imagination, or the fact that she'd gotten lost in quiet contemplation, but his voice practically booms across the living room.

"What?" She curls her hands around her mug, letting the ceramic infuse warmth into her cold fingers. "Nothing, I was just thinking. What'd I miss?"

Castle moves the garland he'd been unboxing from his shoulders, rubbing the no doubt now-itchy spots on his neck. She beckons him closer, tugging his collar aside to see the thin scratches on his skin. Her hand curls around his neck, thumb sliding over one of the marks carefully. Whether it's the touch in general, or the coolness of her hand, it seems to help. He lists back into her, humming contently.

"I asked what your decorations are like and if you want to go get them tonight or tomorrow or sometime."

"Oh, uh… no, not tonight. We don't even have to get them tomorrow."

"You don't want to?" He looks over his shoulder, puzzled.

Impulsively, she steals a kiss, tasting peppermint along with the hot chocolate they've been drinking.

"I don't really have anything, to be honest." It's easier to say it with their heads together and her eyes closed. "I mean, there are things in storage, but…"

"But they were your mom's?" he supplies quietly, twisting to slip an arm around her. It's an awkward position; her knees are in the way, keeping them from getting closer, but his nose brushes hers.

"Yeah," she breathes. "I… she was always so bad about putting decorations away. She'd wait until the sixth of January every year before we'd even turn off the Christmas tree. Everything was still up when she died. My dad and I boxed things up and we haven't looked at any of it since."

" _Kate_ ," he murmurs. His hand delves under her sweater, stroking her back gently.

"The uh, the first year after she died, I went shopping and I bought a few things," she clears her throat quickly. "Just to kind of have something, you know?"

He nods, head bumping hers gently. "Yeah, I do."

"Dad wasn't… he was just empty, and I wasn't much better off. I think I threw all of it out on Christmas day and didn't bother trying again."

His mouth opens, but he swallows whatever he'd planned to say, so she continues,

"After I became a cop and I had my own place, I thought about trying to decorate again, but it didn't really matter much. I worked anyway. As a rookie it was always because I didn't have seniority, but then I decided I'd take shifts for others…"

She sighs. "So I don't have decorations, and I usually work on Christmas Eve, too. Just as a heads up."

Castle rubs her back gently.

"So we'll work on Christmas Eve."

"No, no, no. You are not missing your daughter's last Christmas at home for me." She pulls away to get his eyes.

"Well she's coming back, Beckett!" He looks terrified at the thought of the alternative.

"I know, I know, but after high school it isn't the same. Next year she'll want to go out with her friends, and she'll scoff at your corny decorations from when she was five, even though it'll touch her that you still have it all. This year's a good year and I don't want you to miss out on that. Okay?" She squeezes his neck, kissing him softly to ease the sting of her words.

"But it's our first Christmas, too."

"I know. And that makes it harder. All of it. I want her here, I want to share you with her, share this with her, and the fact that I  _can't_  …"

Before she can finish the thought, her hot chocolate is being plucked out of her hand and the rest of her drawn into a real embrace.

"The fact that you can't makes you want to do what you usually do even more," he murmurs. It's not a question, not really, but she answers like it is.

"Yeah, that's… the easiest way to describe it."

He nods thoughtfully. "What does your dad do? For Christmas, I mean."

"Goes to the cabin. It's… I think even if it's not as hard to be in the city as it used to be, the routine's what he likes now."

Castle's lips brush her hair. "Like you."

"Yeah, like me. We're a great pair, us Becketts."

"Hey, don't talk about my wife and father-in-law that way. They can't help it if they've never experienced a Castle Christmas before."

She chuffs softly, swiping at her face. If only the damn holidays didn't make her so melancholy, make her want to chase ghosts once more. She needs to talk to Burke, to get his help figuring this shit out.

"But to be serious," Castle continues, stroking her back gently. "If these Becketts of mine like their routines, then that's fine. If they don't, we'll help them start new ones. We love them either way."

"We do, huh? Even when your wife's a basket case?"

"Oh especially then. 'Cause now she lets me in and I know to do this."

She's expecting a kiss, but he surprises her by kicking his foot out and nudging the box closed.

"Castle?"

"We'll hold off on decorating for a few days. Alexis is busy anyway and she should be here to do it, too."

It's sweet, but she can't promise she'll feel differently in a few days. Even if she talks to Burke, there's no guarantee. It wouldn't be fair to get his hopes up.

But looking at his face, she's pretty sure he already knows that. An extra three days won't suddenly turn her into Mrs. Claus, but maybe they will help ease her into it.

"Kay. That sounds like a good idea, waiting for Alexis."

"Yeah I thought so, too. So um, what's the Christmas Eve shift like? Do you take Christmas Day, too?"

"Sometimes, but not always. Sometimes it's a half day, just to give the people with kids a chance to open presents and eat lunch. It all depends on the roster. I usually just try to be open."

He hums into her hair. It's generally noncommittal, but she knows he's trying to think of a way to say what he needs to say without upsetting her.

"I won't volunteer to work Christmas Day this year, okay?" The words trip out of her mouth before she can think too hard about them. "If I'm scheduled, I'm scheduled, but… I won't volunteer. I should know in the next couple days."

His thumb slides over her cheek.

"Working Christmas Eve is… sometimes it's heartbreaking. Having to go to a scene… brings back a lot of memories. But that's why I do it. So I can keep the promises I make to the families."

She exhales.

"Sometimes it's quiet. Lots of time spent in the precinct doing paperwork. Your favorite," she teases, pressing her lips against his chin.

Oh, he's… upset. Not angry, hopefully, but the way his jaw's clenched tells her he's not jumping for joy right now.

"It's… I know it doesn't sound like fun, and it's not. But it's, it's kind of like going to church for me. Some people go to church on Christmas Eve, I go to work."

"It sounds lonely, Kate," he says.

Sad. He's sad for her. His voice has that thick quality it gets when he's trying to keep from tearing up. He's not upset or angry, he's sad.

"It can be," she admits, thumbing his arm.

"I know I didn't know her, but I don't think your mom would've wanted that for you. If … it were Alexis, I wouldn't want that for her. For her to be lonely, I mean."

A year ago she would've bristled and gone on the defensive immediately, letting him know exactly  _what_  he knew, even though he would've been exactly right back then, too. Her mom would've told her long ago to stop. To stop doing penance for someone else's sins. To go have Christmas, or something like it, with her dad and now with her husband.

"I know."

Castle nods. "And I'm not telling you not to work, obviously. I wouldn't tell you what to do. I'm not even asking you not to, but I just don't want you to be lonely."

"I know," she repeats softly, pressing her forehead against his neck.

* * *

He looks elated when she comes home with a box a few days later. It's not large, nothing truly impressive, but for three straight nights she'd thought about it, even going so far as to email Burke at 4am and find out what he thought about doing this. He'd encouraged the idea, praising her for making the effort in spite of how difficult it is.

So here she is, presenting her husband with a container of her mother's – and really by extension her own – favorite Christmas ornaments. She'd spent over an hour digging in the storage unit, opening over half a dozen boxes and picking and choosing from their contents to settle on these things. Her hair's a mess, thrown hastily into a bun when the ends started tickling cobwebs. Dust smudges cover her cheeks, too, but that is mostly her fault for not wiping her hands before swiping sweat and tears away.

But she did it. Even as painful as it had felt at the time, as much as it hurt to unearth parts of her life, her childhood, she did it.

Because her mom shouldn't be locked away. The good things shouldn't be locked away.

"It's not a lot," she explains quickly, nodding to the box in Castle's hand. "But they're… some of my favorites from when I was little. I know you have wall to wall decorations, and a scheme for every part of the house, but… could we find room for these somewhere?"

She doesn't even get the last of her request out before he's placing the box, grimy as it is, on the couch with the care one would give a newborn and wrapping her up. Her arms band around him tightly and her eyes sting with fresh tears.

Shit, she doesn't want to cry again. It takes everything in her to tamp it down, to push back on the urge to surrender to whatever bittersweet sadness she's feeling. Instead, she tries to focus on breathing, inhaling and exhaling. Breathing him in. He smells like cinnamon apples; he must have been baking while she was gone.

"There's no finding room, Kate, these are home. They'll go wherever you want."

"Thank you."

His lips touch the corner of her mouth. Mhmm, he tastes like cinnamon apples, too. The sneak must've been eating his creation as he made it.

"I made treats, do you want some?"

"I do, but maybe after a bath?" She needs to sink into the water and let it keep her from thinking for a little while.

"Kay. I'll bring you some wine while you get the water going?"

Her hands loosen against his back. "Please."

He nods loosely. God, he makes it so easy for her. "Anything else I can do?"

Trapping her lip between her teeth, she considers his question. She might need a little time to herself now, but maybe not that much time. "I wouldn't be opposed if you'd wash my back in a little bit?"

"Deal," he agrees, cupping the back of her head. "Just yell for me when you want me."

"Thanks," she whispers, ghosting a kiss over his mouth. This afternoon was hard, but he's slowly making it better.

"Maybe we could decorate some after dinner? The four of us? If you're up for it."

"I figured that was the plan."

"My wife's so smart. And beautiful even covered in dust."

That makes her smile, a real smile this time. He's the smart one, the grounding one; she's going to have to work so much harder for either of them to be able to say she's the same for him.

Squeezing him one last time, she pulls away. "I'll be back in a bit."

Later that evening, she decorates for Christmas for the first time in over a decade. As they go through her box, Castle has to know the story of each and every piece she brought over. Even though she starts off shaky, she's able to give him the stories. It helps Alexis, too, she thinks. Hearing the stories and knowing her mother was once a real person instead of just a body in crime scene photos.

After a couple hours of decorating and debating, it's Alexis who suggests they leave everything as is. Apparently there are over a dozen more boxes they could go through, but the girl reasons that everything looks just right the way it is. It's a little bit of Martha, a little bit of herself, a little bit more of Castle, and a little bit of Kate.

"It's the way it should be," Alexis explains, leaning into her father's chest. "We don't need the train sets and the snow machine, Dad. This is good right now. Right, Kate?"

She freezes, mug of cider at her lips. "I, well, I like it. It's cozy." Her eyes cut to Castle in apology for asking him to tamp down on his inner Elf, but he's nothing but tender in return. Ah, so he's milking it for the sake of milking it. Of course.

Alexis smiles. "What about you, Gram?"

Martha backs her up, pinching Castle's cheek teasingly. "Though I love the way you usually decorate, the women of the house are overruling you, kiddo."

Her mother-in-law's hand snakes around her arm, tugging her into the little pod the three of them have made. Martha smiles gently, patting her fingers. "There, darling. Now it's perfect."

Castle's arm winds across his mother's shoulders, stopping when his hand lands on her neck. His wedding ring feels almost cold against her skin, but she doesn't shy away from the touch. Now the four of them are connected. A family.

"Well how can I argue with the women of the house?" He's smiling, though, overruled or not. He's smiling.

* * *

They don't talk about her working on Christmas Eve again. She knows he doesn't love the idea, but he's not going to fight her on it. Especially since she isn't scheduled to work the next day and for the first time in years, she hasn't volunteered to be there anyway. Just like she promised.

Her day starts early, too early, with a body drop that they manage to close out within a couple of hours. It's a sad situation; a misunderstanding between two men over their resources, an icy curb, and an accidental shove, all explained in a tearful confession. Her heart hurts a little more as LT leads the man away.

One of the other detectives on rotation catches the next case, giving her time to handle more of her paperwork. She's been trying to cut out at a decent time each night, but it means the mundane things are starting to pile up. It'll be good to clear this stuff before the end of the day. Otherwise, she'll be working late before the end of the calendar year.

Her phone buzzes beside her a few times throughout the day. It's Castle, of course, asking what's happening there. He and Alexis apparently ran into a snag with their dinner preparation and had to run out for more. The picture he sends her of the crowds and his harried (but adorable) face makes her laugh into her hand. He takes his holiday dinners seriously. She'll eat leftovers when she gets home from her shift. They'll still be delicious, even if they're reheated.

She sneaks a picture of her paperwork mountain, asking cheekily if he wants to trade. Gates will be leaving around five; she could sneak him in and let him finish her reports while she scavenges the nearly empty shelves at the grocery store. He seems eager to continue braving the last-minute shoppers instead.

It's not a surprise, of course, but what she wouldn't give for him to show up with a cup of his coffee right now. She won't ask, because she's told him to spend the day with his daughter, but her fingers itch to drink a cup she didn't have to wrestle the machine to make.

Maybe she'll run out for one in a few minutes. After she finishes with this report. It has to be after this report, even if she can already smell the brew.

"Hey, Beckett."

No, she can already smell it because he's somehow, inexplicably, read her mind and brought her coffee. Alexis waves from behind him, shifting some of their grocery bags on her shoulder. The rest of the bags are draped over one of Rick's arms, while his free hand presents her the travel cup.

"We were on our way home and thought you might need this." He gestures carefully, grinning as their fingers brush.

"Thanks," she murmurs gratefully, sipping once. "I did need this. Did you get your shopping done?"

"Three stores later, yes. Finally. And now we are going home to finish this masterpiece."

Disappointment settles heavily in her belly, but she nods. Of course it was only a quick stop. It doesn't mean she wouldn't have liked to see more of him since he barely stirred when she kissed him this morning.

"I'll walk you guys out."

She glances over her shoulder, just to make sure Gates isn't about to come out of her office and complain that she's wasting precious time goofing off. The captain's been doing her own paperwork all day and seems to be engrossed in it still. Good, it buys her a few minutes.

"Do you think you'll catch another case today?" Castle asks, lumbering beside her. Part of her wants to offer to take some of the groceries from him but she'll just have to give them back in a moment so she refrains.

"I don't know. I hope not. I wouldn't mind an excuse not to stare at my reports for the next few hours, but I'm not wishing for a call."

Alexis smiles from beside her dad. "What time do you get off work?"

"Late. I'm covering until just after midnight. So I'll need you to make sure someone," she jerks her thumb in Castle's direction, "is in bed for Santa."

It's code, mostly, for not letting him wait up for her, but it still makes the girl smile again.

"I can do that."

"Good." She rubs Castle's back gently as the elevator doors open. She has a feeling he's going to be exhausted before the end of the day. "Save me some ham if you can."

"Of course we will. And you know if your replacement shows up early for whatever reason…"

"I know, Castle. I will."

She kisses him, eager to use the mistletoe above their heads as an excuse to say goodbye to him properly. "I love you. See you at home," she whispers, only to add, "Thank you for the coffee," a little bit louder.

Pleased isn't a strong enough word for the look on his face. "My pleasure, Detective. Love you, too. And I will see you later."

Someone wolf-whistles as they step apart, causing her cheeks to darken. Cute. Castle just gives a 'what can you do' shrug before stepping onto the elevator.

"I can't help it that I'm irresistible," he calls, earning an eye roll from her for his trouble.

Using his coffee gift as a pick me up, she's able to go back to work without incident. Her report stack shrinks while the completed stack grows, and she barely looks up when Gates breezes out of her office at 5:32, calling a good night to the bullpen. Well, at least now she can slouch in her chair, so to speak.

Six o'clock ticks by without another call coming in and she finds herself drifting toward another detective's murder board just to see if she can offer any help.

It's going to be a long night at this rate. Castle's even stopped responding to her texts. Although, that's probably a good thing. Nobody wants a reenactment of the Gravy Incident of 2008 that Alexis has warned her about; she'll let him cook in peace.

She makes a round or two through the bullpen, stopping to inspect the empty desks. Some are decorated for the holidays; some have just added another family photo or two. Her 'tree-ception' ornament is on her desk, but that's the only change she's allowed in her space. Well, that and the wrappers from the Christmas candy Castle keeps bringing her. Those are festive, kind of.

An hour passes before her phone buzzes in her pocket. The tone's not long enough to be a call, so she has a feeling it's her husband finally texting her back.

_"Still no calls?"_

A little smile touches her lips. Okay, so maybe she was bored enough to ask him to entertain her earlier. Now she's settling for making laps around the gym, stopping to look out the window at the street below.

_"No, just wandering the precinct right now. How's dinner?"_

_"Smells delicious. Did you eat?"_

Her stomach grumbles at the thought.  _"Not yet,"_  she types, waiting a beat before adding,  _"will soon."_

He's quiet for a few minutes, or at least her phone is, and she's sure he's gone back to finishing dinner. When his next text comes in, it puzzles her.

" _Where are you?"_

Where is she? At work, where else would she be?

_"Went up to the gym to check on things. Why?"_

_"I think you'll find something interesting downstairs."_

Something interesting downstairs? Oh he did  _not_  come all this way to bring her more coffee or food. Did he? He better not have, not when he could be at home and warm with Martha and Alexis.

Her phone drops back into her pocket as she takes the stairs down. The bullpen's even emptier than it was before, which is strange, but she doesn't worry just yet. They're probably all in the break room or something.

Wherever they are, something smells good in here.

The laughter hits her ears and it all connects in her brain. That's his mother's laughter. And his.

Her eyes dart to the conference room where the commotion seems to be originating. Her feet take her there before his next text comes in.

_"Conference room, Beckett."_

And then there he is, greeting her in the doorway, looking warm and soft (and hot) in deep green plaid.

"Now, I know you said I couldn't come to work with you, but I don't remember you saying anything about not bringing dinner to you. Come have Christmas Dinner, Kate."

"I- what?" She gawks, looking past him for a second before meeting his eyes again.

He grins, palm settling warmly in the center of her back to guide her inside. Sure enough, the conference room table is covered in food. Ham, a small turkey, mashed potatoes, half a dozen other sides. Some of the uniforms and her fellow detectives are already filling their plates, eagerly chattering about the home away from home meal. Alexis and Martha grin at her from the other end of the room, looking pleased with themselves for pulling this off.

None of that's the kicker, though. The kicker is standing beside Martha, following the action with a gentle smile that only grows when he sees her reaction.

Her dad.

"Dad?"

He meets her in the center of the room, wrapping her up in a tight hug. Now that they're closer she can see traces of sadness, of how bittersweet all of this feels, but he's here, not at the cabin like usual. He's working through it the same way she is.

"Rick called me and he said that he was planning to bring family dinner to you today and he'd like me to be here."

Castle's smiling at her when she looks to him. It's not the obnoxious, completely pleased with himself smile that he used to give her, it's this open, sweet, beautiful thing and it makes her belly flutter.

"I would've understood if you hadn't wanted to come, though, Dad."

Her father smiles softly, tucking her into another hug. "I know you would've, Katie, but I thought about it, and maybe this is a good time to do something new. Start a new tradition or two. Then maybe it'll be easier by the time my grandchildren come along."

" _Dad,_ " she whines, pushing at his shoulder lightly.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding."

And he is, mostly. She can tell.

"Now, come on, Rick wouldn't stop bragging about his ham the entire way up."

She laughs softly, stepping beside her husband. It's only the fact that they're in the middle of her workplace that keeps her from bear hugging him right now. "Is there anything Castle doesn't brag about?"

"Hey," he hums teasingly. "I have plenty of talents I'm perfectly capable of keeping hidden and not bragging about."

Her eyebrow lifts. "You sure? Sounds like a boast to me."

"Nope, just a casual observance of one of my many fantastic qualities."

Involuntarily, her hand skims across his back to grip the shirt she has no doubt she'll be donning as soon as she gets home. She tries not to touch him much in the precinct, but she can't help herself today. Nobody here's going to judge her.

"Well, you do have a few of those," she admits, stepping close enough to kiss his cheek. "Thank you."

"For what?" He grins at one of the other detectives in the room, handing them a heaping serving of sweet potatoes before looking at her.

"This. My dad. Moving your family dinner here for me even though the only concession I could make is not working tomorrow."

He shakes his head. "You're celebrating, aren't you?"

"Well yeah, but –"

"Then you've caved enough. But, if you're feeling so inclined when you get home, we're doing midnight-ish presents. And I think I've been so good, I deserve to finally know what's in that huge box you curse about every morning when you try to get to your shoes." His lips lift mischievously. "Just, you know; a suggestion."

"Oh I'll keep that in mind." Okay, green shirt and midnight presents. She can do that.

Her lips slide over his. "Now, can I have some dinner?"


	12. Chapter 12

**Where we left off:**

_"Thank you."_

_"For what?" He grins at one of the other detectives in the room, handing them a heaping serving of sweet potatoes before looking at her._

_"This. My dad. Moving your family dinner here for me even though the only concession I could make is not working tomorrow."_

_He shakes his head. "You're celebrating, aren't you?"_

_"Well yeah, but –"_

_"Then you've caved enough. But, if you're feeling so inclined when you get home, we're doing midnight-ish presents. And I think I've been so good, I deserve to finally know what's in that huge box you curse about every morning when you try to get to your shoes." His lips lift mischievously. "Just, you know; a suggestion."_

_"Oh I'll keep that in mind." Okay, green shirt and midnight presents. She can do that._

_Her lips slide over his. "Now, can I have some dinner?"_

* * *

There's not enough evidence to prove it, but she smells a bribe or ten.

If her co-worker hadn't made it quite clear that he would be spending every possible minute until his shift began in his underwear playing Madden, she wouldn't think anything about Esposito strolling in, over an hour early. After all of the work Castle did planning this dinner, though, she's not so sure his appearance wasn't strategic. Castle's hand hasn't left her thigh in over an hour, so he hasn't been using his phone to call in reinforcements that she can tell. It doesn't mean this isn't part of a grander plan to have Espo send her home early.

Her belly is full from dinner, her cheeks warm and a tad achy from smiling at the stupid stories Martha and her dad keep swapping. She swallows a laugh, turning her attention to Javi instead of taking the bait to argue her the veracity of her father's claim.

"Hey, Espo. Thought your boxers were your uniform until 11:45?"

"They were until I heard there was free food. Figured why not show up and eat."

"Oh of course. Who told you the secret?"

She glances at Castle pointedly, only to have him level an innocent look right back. "It wasn't me, Beckett."

"Uh huh." She sips her sparkling cider slowly, eyebrow lifted toward her hairline.

"It was Eldin, Beckett. He decided to share the sweet potato wealth. Since you guys obviously wanted to hoard it for yourselves," Espo butts in, bumping her shoulder with his hip obnoxiously. "You're blocking the green bean casserole."

Castle makes a show of pulling her chair closer, draping his arm around her shoulders in the process. Smooth, Castle, smooth. Not that she doesn't lean into him anyway. He is warm, solid, and hers.

"Better, 'Sito?"

Esposito rolls his eyes. "You guys are sickening."

"But we're feeding you, so I'm sure your stomach will survive," she drawls, hearing Alexis snicker around her bite of pumpkin pie.

"You should try living with them, Detective."

Castle makes a scandalized sound. "Alexis!"

"Eww, Dad. Eww. I  _meant_  because you're a couple of cuddlers." The face Alexis makes causes Espo, Martha, and Jim to move from chuckling to full-blown laughter. "Eww."

She jumps in, squeezing Castle's knee quickly. "Ohh kay, why don't we change the subject completely? Please? Now?"

Her husband coughs. "Gladly. I want to hear more baby Beckett stories."

"Hush, no you don't." But she'll allow it, solely because she loves the way her father's eyes light up at the prospect. Let him bond with her husband at her expense.

Espo, on the other hand, doesn't need to hear this. Not that it looks like she gets much of a choice, because he grins around a bite of turkey when she turns to distract him. "Too late, boss. I'm listening."

"First time for everything, I guess?" she quips.

Even after the food is gone, they're reluctant to leave the warmth of the conference room. Getting up means breaking the spell that Castle's created for them. It means going back to work and accepting that the next time the phone rings, they might be rolling out to a crime scene.

Castle breaks the stalemate by pressing a kiss to her temple and pulling his arm from her shoulders. "I'll break this stuff down if you need to go back to work?"

"I probably should, yeah," she murmurs, trying not to sigh. Being here tonight is important to her, but she can't help but want to hold onto the peace they have right now.

She can't ask him to change his Christmas for her any more than he already has, but going back to the quiet she once embraced doesn't sound appealing at all.

"Let me at least check in out there and then I'll come help clean."

"You don't have to do that, Kate. I have it."

"Humor me. Five minutes and I'll be back." She stands, smiling quickly at her father. "I'll be back. Stay put, Dad."

Truthfully, she hopes the Castle magic can be worked on her dad to convince him to go home with them and sleep in the guest room for the night. It might be too much for him, and she understands that, but at the same time, she's not ready to declare their first Christmas in a decade over just yet.

Castle's hand sweeps across her lower back. "We'll be here."

She drops an impulsive kiss on his head on her way around him, ducking a little bit to hide from Alexis' knowing smile.

Maybe they are nauseating.

Javi follows her out, checking his phone. He must not have officially clocked in because he doesn't actually head to his desk.

"Yes?" She lifts an eyebrow. "Is there a reason you're lurking, Espo?"

"Uh huh."

"And that is?" She might be full, but it doesn't mean she's sleeping. He's going to have to do better than that.

"You should go home. Spend what's left of today and tomorrow with them." His chin jerks toward the conference room.

She smiles softly, shaking her head. "I'm still on for three hours. They said they'll wait up for me tonight."

Esposito shakes his head. "I got this here. Clock out and go home, alright? Castle cooked a damn good meal, he'll fall asleep early. Trust me."

Rolling her eyes is mostly for show because she's actually considering taking him up on it. So much for the resolve she'd been working on when he walked in.

"I could use the OT, how's that? Not all of us married rich," he teases. "Look, I know working today is important to you and you did it. Go home with your family now."

"Javi –"

"Kate. Go home."

Her eyes dart back to the conference room, to where her husband sits, entertaining their family with that enthusiasm that once drove her insane.

"I mean it, Beckett. Don't make me carry you out of here."

She tries to glare at Javi, but she can't quite manage to be angry with him. Not when he's giving her the option to do exactly what she's been wishing she could do all day. Espo knows it, too.

"You swear to me that Castle didn't put you up to this? Because it's sweet, but he shouldn't be abusing things like this."

"You wanna see my call log? My text history? Until I walked in tonight, I hadn't talked to the guy since you left work yesterday. He didn't put me up to anything."

Well that's more convincing than she would've expected from him if he were lying.

"I'm offering because I don't wanna see you moping for the next three hours, and I definitely don't wanna see Castle making eyes at you until you leave tonight when he decides to stay."

Her hand lifts. "I get it. I – thank you."

Giddiness blossoms in her chest as she gathers her things and logs out of her computer. Espo taps her desk quickly.

"Merry Christmas, Beckett."

She hugs him impulsively. "You too, Javi. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now get outta here."

Castle looks up when she ducks back into the conference room, bag on her shoulder. They've been cleaning already, which she would be angry about if not for the fact that the faster they finish, the faster they can go home.

"Sorry we started without you. Most of this can go in the dishwasher if I'm creative, and whatever's left I'll wash before you get home tonight."

Nodding, she plunks her bag on the table. Castle looks at it, confused.

"Do you want me to take your bag home for you? I might need some help getting it to the car, but sure."

Biting her lip, she shakes her head. "No, I got it. You just might want to let the dishes wait until morning. Javi's covering the rest of my shift for me, so I'm coming home with you."

Her husband beams, twisting to search out their friend and give him a grateful nod. "Oh I'm so buying him Knicks tickets for the rest of the season."

She knows he's serious, too, because that's exactly how he is. Castle brings dinner, Javi gets Knicks tickets as a thank you for sending her home.

"So we won't have to do after midnight presents. Instead we can have pre-midnight presents if you want," she pauses, meeting her dad's eyes to convey the invitation without putting him on the spot.

Much to her surprise, he's already nodding. "Rick asked me to stay while you were outside, and pre-midnight presents sound perfect, Katie."

Oh god, now she really doesn't know who to kiss first, her husband or her father. Castle's closest, so he gets a firm kiss on the mouth (she can do it, she's off duty now) before she moves to her dad's side and steps into his arms. His cheek is warm and rough under her lips, just like when she was a little girl.

"Okay," she breathes finally. "What can I do to get us out of here faster?"

As soon as they walk through the door at home, Castle suggests taking a few minutes to get comfortable before meeting at the tree for a warm beverage and presents. Alexis lights up at the idea, kissing her father on the cheek quickly. She's been so restrained all night long; it's nice to see the excitement and glee of a kid at Christmas emerging.

"Meet you back here soon."

Castle smiles as the girl escapes upstairs, settling his hand on her hip. "I'll show your dad the guest room if you want to change?"

Changing sounds great, provided there's time to jump in a hot shower, but making her dad feel at home here – in her home – is more important. "I'll take him up. You get comfortable and start the hot chocolate?"

He nods, smiling easily. "I'll do that."

"Thanks. And oh, um… leave me this?" She tugs on his collar gently. "Please?"

He kisses her fingertips. "It's yours."

"Damn right it is." She tugs away, patting his chest.

Her father's been studiously avoiding watching the two of them, in favor of studying the loft. She knows when his eyes land on her contributions to the decorations. For a moment, she's worried he'll be upset that she raided the storage unit for her mom's things, but then he smiles. Her cheek touches his shoulder gently, rousing him from his thoughts.

"Come on, Dad. Your room's really comfortable. I slept in there a couple years ago."

She lifts his bag onto her shoulder, reaching for his hand.

"They look good here, your decorations."

"Thanks. I should've warned you that I got them. Out of storage, I mean."

"Oh no, Katie, no. They're yours. They're yours to do whatever you want with, and I'm glad they're here."

She nods in agreement as she leads him upstairs, pointing out Alexis and Martha's rooms and then the guest bathroom beside his room.

"I'm going to jump in the shower before I change, so take all the time you need, okay?"

Her father smiles, kissing her forehead. "Don't worry so much about me, okay? I'll meet you downstairs. I want to know exactly what you bought Rick, too."

Laughing, she shakes her head. "It'll bring back fond memories for you, Dad."

"And somehow that's not comforting, sweetheart," he murmurs wryly.

Castle's still in his regular clothes when she gets downstairs, humming as he digs through a dresser drawer. His butt's wiggling in time with the song, and it's everything she can do to avoid pinching it for being so damn adorable.

"He's getting settled. I'm gonna shower before we do presents, okay?"

She doesn't mean to startle him but he jumps anyway, spinning in place.

"Aww, don't stop dancing for me, Castle."

He laughs softly, snagging her hips as she tries to slide around him.

"Maybe you should dance with me, then?"

Her fingers lace at the base of his neck, letting him take the lead for this impromptu dance they're doing. His leg shifts between hers as he pulls her closer. Their hips bump gently, teasingly.

"Are you going to dance with me at the wedding?"

"Which wedding? Ours? Of course I am."

She laughs softly, sliding her mouth over his. "Ryan's."

"He didn't un-invite us for not inviting him to ours? He threatened to that day at the continuation of his IBPWOC."

His hand slides to the edge of her sweater, tugging it up as far as her locked arms will allow. She releases her grip on his neck after a kiss.

"No, as far as I know Jenny still wants us there, at least." Her hair falls into her face as he manages to get her shirt over her head. Her bra follows a second later.

"Oh good."

No, his touch is good. The way he's cupping and caressing is  _damn_ good.

Her hands go to work on the shirt she's been coveting all evening, tugging it down his arms once it's unbuttoned and tossing it onto the bed.

Castle's hands fall to her waist, thumbs swiping her sides gently. It's a momentary distraction, but she's able to get his undershirt over his head before giving in to his kiss.

"So we're dancing?" she pants against his mouth, nipping his upper lip gently.

"Mmm." He palms her hip, holding her still to unfasten her dress pants before shimmying them off her body, taking her underwear with them. She does the same for him, pushing his boxers down his hips along with the jeans. He shudders when her fingers make contact with his skin. "Dancing all night, baby."

"Think you can dance me into the shower right now?" Her hips rock into him.

They hiss in unison. Shit, they'll be lucky if they're able to dance to the bed just a few feet away.

"Worth a try."

He lifts her easily, hiking her legs around his waist.

* * *

They're fast, but they aren't that fast, and her cheeks flame when they emerge from the office in their cozy clothes with wet hair and receive knowing looks from their family. Her fingers pause mid-braid as Castle slips around her, skidding into the kitchen to save the kettle he'd evidently started and forgot about.

Alexis snickers, holding up her mug over the back of the couch. "Dad, relax, I got it. There's a mug for you and for Beckett on the counter. Just pour the water… assuming it's not cold already."

"I – oh, thanks, Alexis. Kate? Want it your usual way?"

"Mhmm, please."

She sits, taking the space between Alexis and Jim. They're looking a tad too conspiratorial for her liking; it's better to separate them for a bit. Alexis must know it, too, because she grins, moving a pillow for her. She offers the girl a smile of thanks, rolling the sleeves of Castle's shirt a little bit more before slipping her arm through her father's and leaning on his shoulder.

"Your usual way, hmm? Is this the usual way that involves so much whipped cream and chocolate syrup you're on a sugar high for half the night and part of the morning?"

Castle chuckles behind them. Her 'usual' way is a tad more sedate now that she's out of elementary school, but the sentiment is more or less the same.

"Hush, Dad. He's stuck with me for the rest of his life and you're already giving up all my secrets."

Jim chuckles, patting her knee. "Oh, I think a good portion of your secrets are safe, Katie."

For now, anyway. One way or another, her husband will get all of her secrets out of her.

Castle finally lumbers in with their drinks, handing her favorite mug over and looking at the tiny space between her and his daughter. He wants to squish with them, she can tell.

"Aren't you Present Master again this year, Dad?" Alexis lifts an eyebrow.

"Right, yes. Okay. No sharing with you. I'll sit here."

He grunts as he lowers himself to the floor beside her, looping his arm around his daughter's knees. Alexis wiggles her foot in her father's face, giggling.

"What exactly does it mean to be Present Master?" she asks, switching her hot chocolate to her left hand to use her right to touch him. Castle leans into her hand, humming when her nails tease the base of his neck.

"You're the one who hands out all the presents. Some years it's Dad, some years it's me, sometimes it's Gram. Next year can be your turn," Alexis explains when her father's too slow to do so. Castle hums in agreement, sipping his hot chocolate.

"Kay, next year will be my turn." She squeezes Castle's neck. He's tired from the insanity of the day, meaning Espo was probably right; Castle might not have made it to their midnight presents.

His head lolls with her massage.

"Actually, why don't I make this year my turn?" she suggests, scratching her husband's head. "Since I'm the rookie here."

"You sure?" he sounds far away, which makes her lips curve a little bit.

"Uh huh, I'm sure. Now, drink your chocolate and perk up. You'll wanna be awake for this."

Leaning over, she smacks a kiss on his cheek, waiting until his eyes flutter open and he grins to pull away.

She stands when her mug is nearly empty, stretching in preparation for her task. "Okay, so is there an order to this? First come, first served?"

Castle's hand curls around her ankle, fingers dipping underneath the hem of her leggings. Never in her life has having her anklebone caressed been a turn on, until now.

"Mostly," he answers, his voice low and warm, like honey. "But try not to grab from the same pile, since usually those are all for the same person. And always get one for yourself. It's the rule."

"Got it." She smiles, shaking his fingers loose to step to the tree. Her fingers twitch with last second jitters.

She's really doing Christmas. Family Christmas.

Her mom would've loved this.

She shakes off the moment of sadness, even though her dad's look tells her he's right there with her. They're both starting new this year.

"Okay, this first one is fooor, Martha."

In the end she breaks the rules a little bit – bends them, really – making sure everyone has their presents before returning to the small pile of things marked for her. She wants to kiss Martha, Castle, and Alexis for making sure her dad even has presents, despite knowing he might not have even been here.

She's been instructed that, as Present Master, she has to declare present time open before anyone will open anything. It's a silly rule, but she does it for them anyway. "Go for it. Dig in."

Like magic, her words spark a flurry of activity. Paper flies, delighted chatter increases, and she knows this is her first look at what future Christmases will look like. It'll be loud and giggly, probably overwhelming and insane more often than not, but it won't ever be lonely.

Her dad's hand brushes her shoulder gently, his words breaking through her thoughts to remind her to open her things, too.

Soon enough, her laughter and her chatter joins theirs. They've taken care of her this year. Really, this family has taken care of her every year since she's known them.

Somehow, she and Castle end up with the last two unopened gifts, and they're from each other. His is large, hers is about the size of a shoebox, but she knows shoes aren't what she'll find inside.

"You first," she urges, holding the box to her chest. She'll keep the secret inside for just a little longer. "Since you've been waiting  _so_  very long for this."

Castle grins, ripping the paper off the ridiculously large box with gusto. Here it is, the moment of truth.

"Beckett!" he actually squeaks. "Is this? You… this is for me? Really?"

Her chin lands on his shoulder so she can feel his delight instead of just see it. His hands brush the supple leather of the pants, making her bite her lip as she imagines doing the same with him in them.

"Uh huh. It was supposed to be a wedding present, but then I kind of supersized it instead. There's more in there, too."

The helmet makes him laugh, but it's a proud laugh and she knows he's itching to try it out already.

"Writer  _man_ ," he reads, bumping his head against hers. "Thank you."

Since she'd already had to make it a special order because of his big head, she'd decided to go for broke and had the helmet custom decorated, too. She'd only given the artist a vague description of what she wanted, but he'd come through for her. The design is small, but uniquely Castle.

"You're welcome. There's one last thing in there."

Actually there's more than that, but the last part is more of a culmination of it all than a separate piece. She grins into his shoulder as he unearths the jacket and the hidden items. Her dad's shaking his head at them; she wasn't kidding when she'd told him it would bring back memories. Maybe  _fond_  hadn't been the right word for Jim, but they're pretty good memories for her.

"It's the entire… does this mean I get to ride with you finally?"

"Mhmm, check the pocket."

He digs in, pulling the rolled booklet and slip of paper out with a flourish.

"A driver's manual? And… insurance? Does that mean I get to  _drive_  your motorcycle, Beckett?"

Oh, jeez. She didn't even know his voice could get  _that_  high.

"It means that you will study and take the test, and then we'll both be properly licensed and insured to drive. And once the cool factor of riding wears off, maybe you can drive."

"I could just get my own bike. Oh! I should get my own bike. Then we could go on couples rides, Beckett. How cool would that be?"

Her eyes roll even as she grins. "Can't snuggle on your own bike, babe," she murmurs, hoping her dad can't hear.

Judging by the look he gives her when her eyes cut to him, it's a useless wish. Oh well.

"Right." Castle's eyes drop to the jacket in his hands. "Can I try it on? I'm gonna try it on."

"Mhmm, go for it." She sits back to let her husband scramble to his feet, patting her dad's hand gently.

He shakes his head. "Only you, Katie."

"I don't do anything by halves, remember?" She winks at Alexis and Martha quickly. They've talked about the present and what it means for Castle's safety. The driver's manual had actually been Alexis's idea, and she's not ashamed to admit it pulled everything together perfectly.

"That you don't."

"What do you think? Is it me? Does it fit?"

She looks up, laughing at how giddy her husband is right now. He has a few leather jackets, she knows, but they're all tailored like sport coats. This one fits differently, and from what she can tell, it's too small in the sleeves. Damn it.

Crooking her finger to get him closer, she fusses with the cuffs a bit. It's short in the shoulders and in the chest. It'll work in a pinch, but it's short. It's because he's so damn broad; it's sexy, of course, but it's also frustrating to know his gift's going to have to be exchanged. Hell, she'll spring for custom made. Forget dealing with sizes.

"I like it, but it's not perfect," she admits, knowing her face has fallen a little bit. She doesn't want his to fall, too. "I'll work on it," she promises, lifting onto her toes to kiss him. "Monday morning. I'll fix it. We'll keep this one, but I'll get you a better one."

She grips the edges of the jacket, kissing him again. "You like it, though? The style? The pockets and everything?"

He nods eagerly, fingers spanning her ribs. "I love it, Kate. It's perfect, all of it."

Her cheeks flush at the praise. "I'm glad. Sorry about this… I know I got your pants right, though. So at least there's that."

Alexis groans behind her when his eyebrows wiggle.

"Don't say it, Dad. Do not say it."

It's not much of an admonishment; they all know he's thinking it.

"Best wife ever," he says instead, bear hugging her until she can't help but laugh away the shame of her sizing blunder. "And speaking of, your turn. Open your gift."

Her father holds out the present to her, smiling. "Your turn, Katie."

She takes the box carefully, feeling Castle grin against her cheek. The paper comes off easily, and she drops it into the black trash bag before sticking the bow on his head. Gorgeous.

"So yours was kind of a wedding present, too, but it wasn't ready in time."

"That's okay." Like she needs a wedding present, considering he's given her his home, his patience, even his family.

"And there are actually a few things in there," he adds, nodding to the box she's fighting to open. How much tape did he  _use_? "So don't stop until you know it's empty."

Finally, she gets it open, only to see two envelopes on top of tissue paper. Castle takes the present from her, his smile widening as she rips the first envelope open.

Her eyes widen as she reads. How he's even capable of reading her mind like this, she can't figure out. But she can kiss him hard in thanks.

"I know you love your bike, but I know it's also getting expensive to keep up with the maintenance. So that's… enough for a new one or some fantastic tune ups. Whatever you want to do, Kate. And might I say that great minds  _do_ think alike?"

She laughs softly, resting her head against his. That they do. "Thank you, Castle. Okay, next one."

The next envelope opens easily.

His hand slides down her back, waiting for her to read and process exactly what she's seeing.

"Three weeks on a private island?"

"Uh huh, it maxes out your vacation, but for a honeymoon and for as hard as you work…" he explains, humming into her kiss.

"It's perfect. Thank you, Castle."

His chin dips, a bashful smile on his lips. "One more thing. But ah, let me show you."

She watches, lip between her teeth, as he scoops something into his large hand before tossing the shoebox to the side.

"So I didn't get to give you one of these before, and I thought I should."

"One of what?" She tilts her head, eyes moving between his face and his hand. Why is he so serious all of the sudden? She brushes his cheek quickly, trying to make him smile again.

"It's to go along with the honeymoon, really. But um, Katherine Houghton Beckett, will you marry me again? At a time when we're not stealing Ryan and Jenny's thunder and when everyone else can be there with us?"

His hand opens slowly and her mouth follows suit. Oh,  _that_  is an engagement ring. A gorgeous, large engagement ring.

They've been married for a month and a half and her husband is giving her an engagement ring and proposing to her in front of her dad, his daughter, and his mother. (All of whom are beaming, she notices out of the corner of her eye.)

So they're doing it all a little backwards; marrying before dating, getting engaged after marrying. But by some miracle they work, and she'd be lying if she said this gesture doesn't make her love him so much more.

Stepping into him, she kisses him until her lungs burn. If that's not answer enough, once they part, she grins against his lips and manages to find her voice, "Well, if you insist."


	13. Epilogue

_And here we are, the final piece of this story. I'm so happy you've all stayed with me on this ride and I hope you enjoy this as well!_ **  
**

* * *

**Where we left off:**

_"It's to go along with the honeymoon, really. But um, Katherine Houghton Beckett, will you marry me again? At a time when we're not stealing Ryan and Jenny's thunder and when everyone else can be there with us?"_

_His hand opens slowly and her mouth follows suit. Oh, that is an engagement ring. A gorgeous, large engagement ring._

_They've been married for a month and a half and her husband is giving her an engagement ring and proposing to her in front of her dad, his daughter, and his mother. (All of whom are beaming, she notices out of the corner of her eye.)_

_So they're doing it all a little backwards; marrying before dating, getting engaged after marrying. But by some miracle they work, and she'd be lying if she said this gesture doesn't make her love him so much more._

_Stepping into him, she kisses him until her lungs burn. If that's not answer enough, once they part, she grins against his lips and manages to find her voice, "Well, if you insist."_

* * *

The last time she woke up this befuddled, she found a man in her bed and a ring on her finger. This time she wakes alone, sore, and said ring is gone. This time, though, it doesn't take long for the fog to clear. Her fingers are swollen and have been for the last month, so no ring, even though it'd pained her to take it off after over two years of wearing it every moment of every day. She's in a small hospital bed, one that makes sharing comfortably a feat. And, oh yeah, she spent seventeen hours working to bring her son into the world.

Now she remembers why everything hurts. No wonder she slept like a rock once it was over. But he's here – finally – and as sore as she is, she can't help but want to get up and find her baby.

Her baby first, then her husband, although she has a feeling they're probably in the same place.

"Cassle?" she calls, wiping the sleep from her eyes. Stretching is a bad idea, but she does it anyway, looking around the room carefully for signs that anything is amiss. Not that she expects anything to be, she's just being cautious.

"Hey, honey," he's whispering. Oh, he has the baby on his chest. Their son felt so large while she was pushing, but he looks positively tiny against her husband. "How're you feeling? Besides being sore."

"Like I could eat a cheeseburger while drinking a latte in a hot bath?"

Castle smiles; even in the relative darkness of her room, she can see the flash of teeth.

"Soon, Beckett."

Pushing herself up isn't easy, but she manages to do it without wincing much. Castle looks concerned, but he doesn't comment. Good man. He knows she knows when to stop these days.

"Is he okay?"

"He's okay, Kate. We're just bonding."

"Yeah?" She reaches for them both, pushing sleep away in favor of this wonderful, quiet time with her family. No doubt the morning will bring another slew of visitors and they'll have to share. "Have you been bonding for long?"

She shifts over, attempting to make room on the bed for them. It'll be a tight fit, but they can manage. He slides beside her with a grace he doesn't always possess, holding the baby securely. The little thing doesn't even stir as his father settles against her bed pillows. God, he's so trusting already, theirs to protect.

"Maybe an hour?" Meaning longer than that, but he won't admit it. "A nurse came in to check on you guys and it woke him. So I gave him a bottle and he settled."

"Mmm." She strokes her son's cheek with a finger before lifting her hand to stroke her husband's cheek, too. Castle leans into her hand, soaking up the affection joyfully. God, he's so happy to be here. "How'd he do with the bottle?"

"Good. She said if you're up for it, you can try to nurse in the morning."

"I'd like that." Her first attempt hadn't gone so well, but the baby had been agitated and she'd been emotional just feeling him in her arms. She wants to do it, though, if she can.

Her lips touch Castle's quickly. "Have you slept?"

Rick shakes his head. "Just watched you two."

"You should rest, Castle," she chides, listing into him a little more. "If you don't they might take him back to the nursery to sleep."

The nurses tried a few times earlier, citing a more restful sleep for her, but neither of them wanted to let their son out of their sight. Even with that tracker bracelet around the baby's ankle, they're not taking any chances. Not after the man who had her mother killed tried to have her killed – twice – and then framed for another's murder before  _finally_  getting his rightful punishment. Not after someone attempted to take her husband as he was on his way to meet her in the Hamptons for their anniversary vacation. She's never going to complain about his weird obsession with Zombie Apocalypse Survival again; that silly camp he'd dragged her to the spring after they were married probably saved his life.

The prospect of Castle not being here to meet his son terrifies her even now, months later.

Castle kisses her forehead. He knows. He knows she's on edge still. He's been beside her each time nightmares have startled her awake, leaving her terrified that someone had taken him or the baby from them.

"I'll rest, Kate, I swear. He's just hard to put down."

She can't argue with that, not even in the slightest. "Yeah he is. He didn't want the hat?"

"Nah," Castle hums, twisting a little to accommodate the arm she's snaking under the baby. "No swaddling, either, as you can see."

"He stretches like you."

Her nose nuzzles his cheek, lips pursing in a gentle kiss.

"Says the bed hog."

Tired as she is, she can't help but giggle. They've been having this argument since they got married.

"He comes by it honestly."

"Yeah he does," he agrees softly. "We have a baby, Kate."

"You're just now noticing that?" she teases, brushing their son's hair. "Thought it would've been obvious when my boobs grew two cup sizes and I turned into a blimp."

He feigns confusion. "You mean those weren't just really good bras and too much of your dad's macaroni casserole?"

"Oh, that was exactly it. And then bam, this guy shows up out of nowhere."

"Alien abduction, obviously." He's mostly abandoned his usual favorite – CIA Conspiracy – in the last few years, for obvious reasons, but he still likes to throw the crazy theories out there once or twice.

"Oh, obviously."

Her thumb slides against the back of the baby's head. She's careful not to touch that one spot all the books talk about. "So I hear these things are supposed to have names, is that right, super Dad?"

"That's the going thought. Although there is something to be said for calling him 'hey you' for the first two years. We could do it."

"No, babe, we're not doing that."

"Fine, Mrs. Castle. What do you suggest?" He thumbs the baby's ear. "Is he a David?"

"Mmm, what do you think, baby?" she whispers, watching their son's eyelids flutter at their voices. "You look like you like David. Or are you a Ricky like your daddy?"

Rick hmphs beside her. Ricky's his least favorite nickname, except for when she's running her lips along his neck as she murmurs it.

"I still like Thomas, too," he adds as he shifts the baby a little.

"I do, too."

It was her grandfather's name. Her mother's father. The man Castle's playfulness often reminded her of in the early days of their partnership.

Her fingers slide against her son's fingers. God, he's perfect. Ten fingers, ten tiny fingernails, perfect little lips, perfect nose, a perfect little forehead. She sees Castle in him and she sees herself. Her baby.

"Thomas, then."

"Thomas David," she murmurs, kissing her husband's shoulder. He likes David, he has since the random summer day she handed him a positive pregnancy test and asked if he was happy only to have him practically tackle her in excitement. "Or David Thomas?"

"Thomas David Beckett Castle?"

It's sweet, but a mouthful. "Four names, Castle? Isn't that a little much? He's so little."

"Only for standardized tests and when we're really,  _really_  mad at him. He's the best of both of us, Beckett, shouldn't he have that?"

Her heart clenches. He  _is_  the best of both of them. He's proof that they've made it through everything life has thrown at them.

"Thomas David Beckett Castle," she hums, brushing her lips over Castle's cheek. "Do you like it?"

"I love it, Kate."

She smiles, rubbing her son's cheek. "What do you think, baby boy? Is that your name?"

He sleeps on, nestled against Castle's chest. "I think that's him, honey."

"I think it is."

"Hi, Thomas," Castle coos. "Welcome to the world, little boy."

Her breath seizes at the words. Their son's finally here. After all the fighting and the worry, he's here in Rick's arms.

"I love you," she breathes, breaking the gentle silence and swiping at her nose. Stupid hormones won't stop making her cry.

"I love you, Kate. What you did earlier was… amazing. Extraordinary."

"I'm just glad he's here and that you're here."

He passes Thomas over gently, waiting until she's settled to slide his arms around her.

"Kate, there is nothing, nothing, that would keep me from being here."

She sniffs, kissing her baby's forehead carefully. "Damn right. And I'll shoot you if go anywhere."

Castle's lips slide against her temple. "I'll never go anywhere, Kate."

She shuts her eyes, feeling the slow movement of his chest against her back. Thomas stirs against her, tiny fingers clenching the loose nightshirt she'd been allowed to don after getting cleaned up. Her breath stutters at the motion, but somehow she finds the words,

"I'm here, Thomas, I'm here. Daddy's here, too."

Her husband grins. He loves being Daddy. He loved it the first time she called him that when talking to their dog, and he's lit up every single time she spoke to her stomach while she was pregnant. He's murmured it against her belly nearly every night, just before curling around her and falling asleep.

"We're here." He thumbs their son's back. "And tomorrow your uncles are coming to meet you, and your big sister will be back with your grandpa and your gram. Everyone's coming tomorrow. Except for your puppy brother. He has to stay at home, but he's excited, too." Castle's fingers slide over hers when he pauses. "They're so excited, Thomas."

Everyone's ecstatic, even the dog. The boys were working a case all day and couldn't get away, and Lanie was elbow deep in a body when Thomas arrived. Her dad, Alexis, and Martha were there nearly the entire time, only going home to feed Royal and make sure the house is ready for the baby to come home in a day or so.

"And now we have a name to tell everyone, too."

"Hey, we do." He grins, brushing his cheek against hers. "Good timing. I mean, it's writer's timing, since it's 3am, but it's good timing nonetheless."

"Well, you live with a writer long enough…"

Her husband chuckles. "Say that like you don't love it."

Oh, she loves it. It, him, all of it. She can safely say that, even with all the shit they've been through, she wouldn't change a minute of it. Not their spur of the moment Atlantic City wedding, not the awkwardness that they fought so hard to overcome in the weeks after, not the fights – oh they've had some knockdown, drag out fights over big things and small things alike – there is nothing she would change.

"Mhmm, shut up."

Castle grins, fixing their son's blanket gently. "Shut your eyes, Kate. I'll take him when you fall asleep."

Her eyes slip shut, only to pop open again. "You need to sleep, too."

"I will. I'll put him down and I'll sleep on the couch over there."

"You'd better. No more creepy staring."

"You love my creepy staring."

"Love you, not the staring," she reminds softly. "Love you more when we're both not sleep deprived before he's even a day old."

Castle chuckles. "That's fair."

Her chin lifts, intent on catching whatever part of him she can reach to kiss. It's not the best angle, but it's worth the stretch when she gets his mouth finally. The kiss is a little sloppy, a lot sleepy, but it's exactly what she needs.

"Thank you," she breathes, pressing her face against his chin. She'd thought she'd have to let him go home in the morning to clean up and shave, but he put toiletries for himself in her bag so he can stay and the selfish part of her is glad.

"For what, Kate?" He keeps his voice low, hypnotizing. It's the voice he used whenever she'd wake up from a nightmare and want to stay awake.

Sleepiness licks at her, just like he wants, but she pushes through.

"Everything? For Thomas? For marrying me even though I was a mess and couldn't do something simple like date you first?"

"Ah, but by marrying me you also couldn't date anyone else while we figured it out. So it was still a win for me, really." She feels his muscles shift when he smiles.

She laughs softly. He's only half serious, she knows, but she reminds him of one important part anyway, "Don't want anyone else, Castle. Just you."

"I know," he murmurs, dipping his head. "I know, honey."

Her shoulder tingles under his lips.

"Tell you a secret?" she whispers, shifting Thomas closer. He sleeps on, perfectly content in their hands.

Castle inhales softly, thumbing her ring finger gently. Hopefully the swelling will go away soon; she misses the weight of her wedding ring.

"Tell me a secret, Kate," he agrees, indulging her fight to avoid sleep for a few more minutes. He loves a good story.

"When you went to Atlantic City with the boys, you know what Gates told me?"

He shakes his head. They both remember her annoyance when the captain overruled her and sent him with the boys instead of keeping him with her. The power struggle with Gates ended when the woman backed her with Bracken, but they both remember how they clashed.

"She said she wanted to see what I could do without… distractions."

He kisses her shoulder again. "So, of course, you drove to AC to meet us and married me." He grins, rubbing his nose against her nightshirt. "Boss thinks your partner distracts you, so you marry him. You're such a rebel, Kate."

Thomas snuffles when she laughs. "Sorry, baby, sorry. Daddy's making me shake."

"But Daddy's right," Castle singsongs. "Mommy gets told to stay away from the bad boy and Mommy marries him instead. Not only that, Mommy makes it her idea. No wonder Gates was so baffled when she found out."

" _Anyway_ ," she interrupts, trying to breathe through her giggles. "I just… wanted to tell you that."

Her husband smiles. "Well I'm proud to be your best distraction. And your most handsome rebellion."

She's too sleepy to roll her eyes, especially since it's more or less the truth. "Better be proud, buddy."

His fingers smooth down her arm, the movement enticing her to slump against him. Sleep pulls her in, wrapping her up tightly.

"To have all this, Kate? Always," he whispers, and that's the last thing she hears before she drifts off again.

—-

_A/N: Thank you all for reading._

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to ff.net in October 2014, cross-posted here September 2015


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